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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


'Tt- 


i/^- 


By  the  Author  of  this    Volume. 


Thornton  Hall;  or,  Old  Questions  in  Touua 
Lives,  li)  Initial  Ulustrations.  Oue  Volume  12mo, 
cloth.    $1.50. 

Sent  fty  mail  'post-free  on  receipt  of  price,  by  the 
publishers. 

ANSON  D.  F.  RANDOLPH  &  COMPANY, 

770  BROAD  WAT,  NEW  TOKK. 


THEODOEA 


A    HOME    STOEY 


BY 


PHEBE     F.    McKEEN, 

AUTHOR  OF   "TDORNTON  HALL,"   ETC. 


NEW    YORK: 
ANSON    D.    F.    RANDOLPH    &    COMPANY, 

770   BROADWAY,    COK.    Qth   STREET. 


COPYRIGHT,    1S75,   BY 

Anson  D.  F.  Randolph  &  Co. 


g5?y 


ROBERT    RUTTER, 

BINDER, 
84    BEEKM.\N    STREET,  N.  V 


r.nWARD    O.  JENKINS, 

PRiy-TER    Ayr    STEREOnrER, 

20  NORTH  WILLIAM  ST.,  N.  Y. 


CO  NTENTS. 


56 
67 


I.  AN   INDIGNATION   MEETING,      .  .  .1 

n.  THE   FAMILY   DIS6KACED,     ...  12 

m.  THE    HEAD   OF   THE    SPRING,    .  .  .26 

IV.  THE   LIGHTESTG   OF   A   LIFE-LONG   FIKE,       .  89 

V.  THREE    GIELS, 

VI.  LAKESIDE   LODGE, 

Vn.  A   TURN    IN    THE    TIDE,  .  .  .81 

Tin.  THE  YEAR   IN   NEW   YOKE,  ,  .  89 

IX.  BEN    WALTON,  ....      103 

X.  SHALL    SHE   RECANT?  .  .  .  110 

XI.  A   DECISION,       .....      IIT 

Xn.  A   CHANGE   OF    SCENE,        .  .  .  130 

Xm.  ESMADURA,      .....       147 

XIV.  LIFE   IN   THE    SMOKE,  .  .  .  166 

XV.  THE   PANIC,      .  .  .  .  .175 

XVI.  DONALD   IN   THE   FOG,         .  .  .  192 

XVII.  TOWN-MEETESTG,    AND   WHAT   CAME   OF   IT,  .      206 

XVIII.  PREPARATIONS,       ....  219 

(V) 


VI  CONTENTS. 

XIX.  OFF   FOR    THE   WAK,                 .                 .  .       234 

XX.  THE    FLA<;-RAISING,         .                   .                  .  243 

XXI.  NITVVS    FROM   THE    FRONT,     .                 .  .      256 

XXII.  CONFISCATION,     ....  270 

XXni.  TAKEN    IN,     .               .                 .                 .  .      291 

XXIV.  NO   NEWS,            ....  309 

XXV.  AT   HOME,    .....      322 

XXVI.  A   BREAK    IN    THE    CLOUDS,            .                  .  339 

XXVn.  A   CHANCE   MEETING,               .                 .  .      343 

XXVIII.  DOWN   THE    RIVER,          .                  .                  .  354 

XXIX.  IS    HE   THERE?  ....      370 

XXX.  AN   ACQUAINTANCE   MADE,            .                 .  388 

XXXI.  BETWEEN   LIFE   AND    DEATH,               .  .      404 

XXXII.  SUNSET,                 ....  417 

yyxTTT.  SILENCE,     .              .              .              .  .420 

XXXIV.  SOMEBODY    COME,               .                  .                  .  441 

XXXV.  THE    SONG    SET   TO   A   NEW   TUNE,    .  .      457 

XXXVI.  LATER   DAYS,     ....  469 


THEODORA 

A    HOME    STORY. 


I. 

AN     INDIGNATION    MEETING. 

THERE  was  never  a  more  unanimous  political  meeting. 
The  audience  kindled  to  wrath,  or  melted  in  pity 
at  the  will  of  the  speaker ;  and  believed  that  if  the  world 
could  hear  him,  the  world  would  be  done  with  injustice 
forever. 

The  scene  was  a  large  old  woodshed ;  the  orator,  a  boy 
eleven  or  twelve  years  old,  mounted  on  a  chopping-block ; 
the  audience,  a  girl  some  two  years  younger.  The  busi- 
ness of  this  boy,  in  the  shed,  was  splitting  wood ;  that  of 
the  girl,  picking  up  chips  ;  but  when  the  interests  of  the 
nation  are  at  stake,  what  patriot  is  content  to  waste  his 
strength  on  senseless  things  ?     Not  one  twelve  years  old ! 

While  the  speech  was  still  in  full  flow,  the  mother  of 
the  children  came  from  the  sitting-room  to  the  kitchen  to 
make  a  fire  under  the  tea-kettle ;  finding  the  wood  and 
chips  not  yet  ready,  she  looked  out  into  the  shed  for  her 
helpers.  They  were  too  intent  to  notice  her,  and  she 
stood,  for  a  moment,  watching  them  with  an  amused 
smile. 

It  was  a  friendly-looking  old  shed,  filled  with  a  faint 


2  THEODORA  :    A    no:ME    STORY. 

forest  fragi'ance.  The  sticks  of  wood  piled  from  floor  to 
rafters  had  not  jet  forgotten  that  they  were  branches  of 
trees.  Even  here,  in  their  prison,  they  had  found  out 
that  Spring  was  come,  sap  was  oozing  from  their  severed 
veins,  sweet  gums  from  their  bark ;  the  green  and  grey 
Hchens  that  chmg  about  them,  faitlif  ul  to  the  death,  were 
still  pretty  as  in  the  woods.  At  the  back  of  the  shed,  an 
open  door  showed  a  sweet  picture  of  meadows,  and  river, 
and  wooded  hills  beyond. 

In  this  door,  little  Theodora  was  sitting,  her  chip- 
basket  forgotten  beside  her,  and  her  blue  eyes  full  of 
responsive  fire,  fixed  on  her  brother's  glowing  face,  as  he 
shouted  at  the  wood-pile  in  front  of  him,  with  a  gesture 
of  defiance : 

"  Will  ye'r  bloodhounds  snuff  their  prey  in  this  moun- 
tain air  ?  Will  ye  drag  ye'r  victims  from  our  altars  and 
our  fii'es  ?  N^o,  sir !  Not  if  this  is  the  land  of  the  free 
or  the  home  of  the  brave !  "  At  this  point,  the  door 
creaked  and  the  young  orator  caught  sight  of  his  mother. 
Instantly,  he  struck  a  new  attitude,  and  without  the  glim- 
mer of  a  smile  except  in  his  roguish  brown  eyes,  went  on. 

"  Ha !  the  pursuer  is  already  at  our  doors  !  Ye  sons  of 
freedom,  wake  to  glory !  " 

The  mother  laughed,  but  broke  in  upon  his  eloquence. 

"  Come,  children  !  Business  before  pleasure.  We  shan't 
have  any  fires  for  your  victims  to  be  dragged  from,  if 
you  don't  bestir  yonrselves." 

Donald  jumped  down,  laughing,  from  his  rostrum,  and 
seizing  the  ax,  went  to  work  vigorously,  while  his  sister 
searched  for  the  driest  chips  to  fill  her  basket. 

Presently  a  knotty  stick  refused  to  be  split. 

"  Aha,  old  fellow !  do  you  think  you  are  a  match  for 
me  ?    Not  by  a  long  shot.    Oh,  see  here,  Theodora !    This 


AN   INDIGNATION   MEETING.  3 

is  Tunms  and  I  am  ^neas ;  you  are  picking  up  the 
woimded,  you  know.  I  shall  swing  my  battle-axe  three 
times  around  my  head  and  then  you'll  see  how  I  shall 
split  his  skull  open." 

The  little  sister  looked  on  admiringly  while  her  hero 
swung  his  battle-axe  three  times  around  his  head,  but 
alas  for  glory  !  as  it  descended  on  the  stubborn  head  of  the 
foe,  it  glanced  and  struck  into  the  foot  of  the  conqueror. 
He  merely  exclaimed,  "  Hullo !  "  but  his  red  cheeks 
paled,  and  his  brows  knit  with  pain. 

"  Oh,  did  you  hurt  you  ? "  cried  Theodora,  springing  to 
his  side,  her  face  full  of  concern. 

"  Rather  think  I  did,"  answered  the  brother,  limping  to 
a  log  and  sitting  down.  To  her  horror,  the  little  girl 
saw  blood  oozing  through  the  cut  in  his  boot,  and  started 
toward  the  door,  saying : 

"  I  will  run  for  mother." 

"  JS^o ;  it  will  frighten  her.     I  can  go  in  now." 

Putting  his  hand  on  her  shoulder,  he  hobbled  into  the 
kitchen  and  sat  down  in  the  first  chair  he  could  reach. 

"  Now  you  may  go  and  find  mother,"  he  said,  "  and 
tell  her  I  have  hurt  my  foot  a  little.  Don't  scare  her 
about  it." 

In  a  moment  the  mother  was  there,  her  heart  quaking 
at  visions  of  lock-jaw  and  amputation,  but  none  the  less 
firmly  and  quickly  taking  off  the  cut  boot  and  stocking, 
and  bathing  the  bleeding  gash.  Theodora  ran,  as  she  was 
bid,  for  the  sticking-plaster,  the  roll  of  old  linen,  the 
scissors,  and  needle,  thread,  and  thimble,  and  felt  that  she 
had  an  important  share  in  dressing  the  wound.  She 
stood  by  while  her  mother  closed  the  gap  with  strips  of 
plaster  and  wound  the  long  bandage  around  and  sewed  it. 
She  noted  the  cheery  little  remark  she  made  as  she  wejit 


4  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STORY. 

along,  and  bow  slie  put  lier  arms  around  Donald's  shoulders 
and  kissed  him,  when  she  was  through,  saying : 

"  You  will  be  more  careful,  next  time,  my  dear." 

More  closely  than  anything  else,  she  watched  her 
brother's  face;  for  Donald  was  her  hero  and  she  was 
jealous  of  any  sign  in  him  of  flinching  under  pain.  It 
was  he  who  was  always  telling  her  stories  of  the  brave 
deeds  of  old ;  having  so  receptive  a  listener,  he  did  not 
fail  to  paint  his  warriors  as  encountering  three-headed 
giants,  or  fire-breathing  dragons,  with  indifference,  and 
leaping  into  the  chasm  of  the  forum,  or  Ijeing  thrust  into 
the  spiked  barrel  with  smiling  composure.  So  she  natu- 
rally demanded,  in  her  loyal  little  heart,  that  he  should 
come  up  to  the  mark  in  fortitude  as  well  as  the  best 
of  them.  On  the  whole,  she  was  satisfied  with  him, 
though  she  debated  somewhat  painfully  within  herself 
whether  Mutius  ScfBvola  said  "  Whew !  "  when  he  laid 
his  hand  on  the  burning  altar,  as  Donald  did  when 
his  stocking  was  drawn  off.  Little  Faith,  only  five  years 
old,  looked  at  his  blanched  cheeks  with  a  kind  of  silent 
awe ;  but  Theodora  did  not  feel  quite  at  peace  about  them 
till  she  found  an  opportunity  to  ask  her  mother  privately : 

"  Do  soldiers  and  men  that  get  hurt,  always  look  so 
white  as  Donald  did  ? " 

"  Almost  always ;  pain  and  loss  of  blood  make  almost 
any  one  look  pale." 

"It  wasn't  because  he  was  frightened,  loas  it?"  she 
asked  confidently,  yet  wishing  to  be  made  more  confident. 

"  1^0,  I  think  not ;  he  bore  it  like  a  man.  It  would 
have  been  no  shame  to  him  if  he  had  been  frightened, 
for  it  was  an  ugly  cut." 

The  little  sister  was  at  rest ;  Donald  was  all  right. 
But  now  came  in  from  school,  the  older  brother  and  sister 


AN    INDIGNATION    MEETING.  5 

— ^Robert  and  Miriam — and  presently  the  father  returning 
from  the  post-office.  Theodora  was  tilled  with  a  delight- 
ful sense  of  consequence  as  sole  witness  of  the  accident. 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Cameron,  with  Miriam's  help,  made 
ready  the  tea-table.  Take  a  look  at  the  family  as  they 
gather  around  it : 

There  behind  the  tea-tray,  with  its  simple  stone  china 
furnishing,  sits  the  mother.  You  would  know  she  was 
the  mother,  by  the  thoughtful  kindness  in  her  blue  eyes, 
by  the  lines  in  her  fair  forehead  and  about  her  restful 
mouth — lines  written  by  the  loving  care  and  patient  pain, 
the  pleadings  and  the  prayers,  her  six  children  have  cost 
her.  Her  very  hands  look  like  mother  hands  ;  as  if  they 
had  washed  and  dressed  little  babies,  made  bread  and  pies 
for  hungry  children,  sewed  and  mended  their  numberless 
garments. 

Tristram  Shandy  says  of  Uncle  Toby:  "There  was 
something  in  his  look  and  voice  and  manner  superadded, 
which  eternally  beckoned  to  the  unfortunate  to  come  and 
take  shelter  under  him."  It  must  have  been  something 
akin  to  that  about  this  woman  which  so  often  made  the 
motherless  feel- as  if  it  would  be  a  cure  for  heart-ache  to 
lay  one's  head  on  her  kind  bosom  and  be  folded  in 
her  warm  arms.  Nor  M'as  it  love  and  pity  only,  that  she 
had  to  give.  She  had  sound  sense  and  rich  experience, 
and  she  took  counsel  so  often  of  Him  in  whom  are  hid 
all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge,  that  she  was 
apt  to  see  the  truth  of  things. 

You  see  her  very  simply  dressed.  The  soft,  dark  hair, 
which  the  years  have  just  begun  to  streak  with  grey, 
is  indulged  a  little  in  its  propensity  to  curl,  "just  to 
please  the  children ; "  but  slie  has  too  many  to  care  for  to 
spend  much  time  in  beautifying  herself.     Yet  as  those 


6  TnEODOEA  :    A    nOME    STOKT. 

children  shall  look  back  through  the  long  years  hereafter, 
they  will  see  no  image  so  sacredly  beautiful  as  hers. 

Opposite  sits  the  father.  His  broad  forehead,  under 
masses  of  iron-grey  hair,  marked  eyebrows,  piercing 
black  eyes,  the  decided  line  of  the  mouth  and  curve  of 
the  chin,  with  the  firmly-knit  frame,  show  hiui  what  he 
is : — resolute,  fearless,  self-reliant,  grave,  clear  in  judg- 
ment, prompt  in  action.  But  you  do  not  know  him,  till 
you  have  seen  the  drollery  creep  into  those  eyes,  while 
tlie  sober  mouth  finishes  an  argument  with  a  telling 
stroke  of  shrewd  Scotch  humor,  nor  tiU  you  have  heard, 
that  manly  voice,  tremulous  with  pity  and  tenderness, 
while  it  speaks  strong  consolation  to  t'.ie  suffering. 

His  is  a  direct,  positive  mind,  which  could  not  long  be 
contented  in  the  twilight,  could  not  j  itch  its  tent  M^here 
two  ways  meet  and  dwell  there,  because  uncertain  which 
to  take.  Definite  opinions,  decided  beliefs,  are  a  neces- 
sity of  his  nature  ;  nor  is  it  less  a  necessity,  those 
opinions  and  beliefs  being  formed,  to  defend  and  enforce 
them.  So  it  is  not  strange  that  lie  is  a  preacher  ;  but  he 
is  more  than  a  preacher — he  is  a  minister  to  his  people. 
The  faith  delivered  to  him  by  fathers  who .  fought  for  it 
on  Pentland  Hills,  or  starved  for  it  in  beleaguered  Derry, 
is  not  his  by  inheritance  alone.  By  the  reasonings,  the 
wrestlings,  tlie  penitence  and  consecration  of  early  man- 
hood, it  was  wrought  into  his  soul,  to  be  a  living  power 
forever. 

It  was  now  some  eighteen  years  since  this  man  and 
this  woman  had  brought  to  the  founding  of  a  home — not 
much  of  worldly  substance,  but — a  competence  of  good 
sense,  good  temper,  working  power,  love  for  each  other, 
and  loyalty  toward  God. 

Into  tliis  home,  with  its  atmosphere  of  love  and  truth, 


AN    INDIGNATION    MEETING. 


had  come,  bj  this  time,  six  children,  who  maj  be  trusted 
to  make  themselves  known  in  due  time  : — Robert,  and 
Miriam,  Donald  and  Theodora,  Faith  and  baby  Jessie, 
just  now  studying  the  art  and  mystery  of  walking. 

"  It  was  not  in  vain  that  you  took  Donald  to  the 
debate  last  evening,"  remarked  Mrs.  Cameron  to  her 
husband,  as  they  sat  at  the  tea-table. 

"  Now,  mother,  please  don't ! "  begged  Donald  ;  but 
she  went  on,  throwing  him  a  smile. 

''  He  has  been  haranguing  the  wood-pile  and  Theodora 
on  the  fugitive  slave  question,  in  the  most  oratorical 
style." 

"  Now,  mother,  don't  you  think  you  are  a  little  too 
bad  ? "  exclaimed  Donald.  He  did  not  mind  her  over- 
hearing him,  but  he  was  afraid  of  appearing  ridiculous  to 
his  father. 

"  Demosthenes  used  to  practi{;e  on  the  waves  for  an 
audience — why  shouldn't  you  on  the  wood-pile  ? "  asked 
the  father,  who  secretly  cherished  high  hopes  of  the  boy, 
and  liked  to  stir  his  ambition. 

The  young  orator  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  elevated 
his  eyebrows  at  the  comparison.  But  in  five  minutes 
the  children  about  the  table  were  discussing,  with  flashing 
eyes  and  eager  voices,  the  question  which  had  roused  the 
village  Lyceum  the  evening  before.  It  was  the  tune 
when  the  whole  country  was  aflame  with  excitement  over 
the  Fugitive  Slave  Bill,  and  that  fire  which  kindles  an 
ardent  love  of  justice  and  liberty  in  young  hearts  was 
warm  in  many  households.  The  young  Camerons  were 
used  to  hearing  the  subjects  which  interested  their  father 
and  mother  thorougldy  discussed,  and  had  their  opinions 
early  rooted  and  grounded. 

It  was  the  invariable  habit  at  the  Camerons'  to  "  have 


8  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORT. 

prayers"  directly  after  breakfast.  It  was  no  irksome 
service.  Parts  of  the  Bible  were  chosen  which  the 
children  could  best  understand,  and  they  all  read  in  turn, 
down  to  little  Faith,  who  delivered  the  long  words  with 
a  sense  of  triumph  quite  vain-gloricus.  Then  came  the 
singing,  which  they  all  enjoyed,  and  the  fathei-'s  prayer, 
short,  simple,  varied,  and  earnest. 

The  whole  history  of  the  home  was  inscribed  upon  the 
family  altar.  There  solemn  and  jo^-ful  thanks  had  been 
rendered  for  every  life  added  to  the  flock,  and  there 
gi-ief,  waywardness,  and  siclaiess  had  been  brought  for 
heahng.  There  every  important  plan  or  pei-plexity  had 
been  laid,  that  it  might  catch  the  Hght  of  heaven ;  and 
there  every  journey  was  recorded,  for  no  one  went  away 
without  a  benediction  sought,  or  returned  without  thanks- 
giving. In  fact,  it  was  from  this  altar  that  the  oldest 
boy  took  a  new  departure  for  his  life's  journey,  the 
morning"  after  Donald's  little  accident. 

It  happened  in  this  way  :  the  chapter  read  at  prayers 
was  the  seventeenth  of  Proverbs,  and  the  verse  fell  to 
Robert,  "  "Wherefore  is  there  a  price  in  the  hand  of  a 
fool  to  get  wisdom,  seeing  he  hath  no  heart  to  it  ? " 
Ashe  read  it,  he  looked  up  with  an  arch  smile,  saying  : 
"  Don't  you  think  that  applies  to  me,  father  ? " 
"  Don't  call  yourself  a  fool,  my  son,"  was  answered, 
with  a  shade  of  disgust.     A  smile  ran  around  the  circle, 
for  it  was  well  understood  that  it  was  the  father's  strong 
desire   to   send  Robert  through  college,  and  the  boy's 
desire,  equally  strong,  not  to  go. 

As  the  family  were  dispersing,  after  worship,  Mr. 
Cameron  called  Robert  back.  There  was  a  look  of  sad- 
ness and  disappointment  in  his  face  ;  the  boy  was  sorry 
to  see  it,  but  he  felt  that  the  happiness  of  his  hfe  was  at 


Jln  indignation  meeting.  9 

stake  ;  so  he  came  back  and  sat  down,  resolved  to  say  all 
that  was  in  his  lieart.     The  father  began  : 

"  I  have  no  wish  to  force  you  to  go  to  college,  my  son, 
if  you  have  no  heart  for  it;  but  it  has  always  been  my 
plan  that  you  should  be  educated.  I  hoped  you  might 
be  inclined  to  become  a  minister." 

"  I  know  it,  father,  and  I  would  try — I  have  tried — to 
please  you,  but  I  feel  sure  I  shall  never  amount  to  any- 
thing, if  I  go  on." 

"  Boys  can  hardly  tell  what  they  will  want  when  they 
are  men." 

"  But  I  am  sixteen  now,  sir,  and  it  seems  as  if  some- 
thing would  have  to  be  decided  soon.  If  you  say  so,  of 
course  I  will  plod  along  and  do  the  best  I  can ;  but  if 
you  were  willing  to  let  me  give  it  up,  I  should  be  gladder 
than  you  can  imagine.  This  Greek  and  Latin  fairly  make 
me  sick,"  he  burst  out,  with  a  vehemence  unusual  for 
him,  his  cheeks  flushed  and  his  blue  eyes  pleading.  "  You 
have  no  idea  how  I  dread  the  hours  I  spend  on  them.  I 
would  rather  dig  ditches  or  lay  stone  walls." 

The  father  turned  liis  head  with  something  like  a  groan, 
"  When  I  was  of  your  age,"  he  said,  "  I  used  to  snatch 
every  moment  I  could — in  t'  e  corner  of  the  hayfield 
while  the  men  were  eating  their  lunch,  on  top  of  the 
load,  holding  the  plough — to  study  this  same  Latin  and 
Greek." 

"  There  it  is,  father.  You  loved  it ;  you  wanted  it, 
and  you  worked  for  it  with  a  will.  I  wish  I  had  that 
feeling,  but  I  have  not  one  spark  of  it.  It  is  rowing  up 
stream  for  me — every  stroke  of  it." 

There  was  a  pause  before  the  father,  with  eyes  looking 
into  the  distance  and  a  voice  of  repressed  feeling,  spoke 
again : 

1* 


10  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STORY. 

"  1  have  been  glad  to  think  you  would  have  an  easier 
time  than  I  had  in  getting  an  education.  Though  I  have 
not  much  means,  it  is  something  to  have  a  father  anxious 
to  help  you  all  he  can,  with  a  good  library  for  you  to  use." 

Many  a  man  looks  back  with  a  kind  of  affectionate  pity 
on  his  young  self  strugghng  through  thwarting  circum- 
stances, and  vows  to  make  him  amends  in  the  person  of 
his  son;  but  time  reveals,  to  the  father's  chagrin,  that 
this  son  is  not  his  young  self  over  again,  but  another, 
with  quite  different  tastes  and  ambitions.  So  Life  man- 
ages to  tell  the  old  story  over  again. 

The  fidelity  to  his  own  soul's  vocation  which  had 
strengthened  John  Cameron  to  break  away  from  his 
father's  farm  to  follow  a  scholar's  labors  and  rewards  was 
nothing  different  from  that  which  confronted  him  now  in 
his  Robert,  sorrowfully  but  resolutely  protesting  against 
his  wishes,  and  planning  new  attempts  and  ventures  for 
himself. 

For  the  present,  however,  Robert  looked  gloomily  out 
of  the  window,  feeling  humiliated.  He  knew  that  his 
father  was  bitterly  disappointed  in  him,  yet  self-respect 
rose  up  within  him  and  spoke  out : 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  that  I  am  lazy,  father.  I  am 
willing  to  work,  and  work  hard ;  only,  not  with  books. 
Set  me  doing  almost  anything  else,  and  I  won't  disap- 
point you." 

"  What  should  you  prefer  to  do,  if  you  left  study  ? " 

"  I  should  like,  better  than  anything,  to  be  a  fanner. 
I  never  enjoyed  anything  better  than  helping  Uncle 
David,  haying-time  ;  but  then,  I  should  be  perfectly  wil- 
ling to  go  into  a  store  or  a  machine-shop,  or  anything 
else  where  I  can  bestir  mvself  and  be  around  amono; 
people,  and  do  something." 


AN   INDIGNATION   MEETING.  11 

"  Yeiy  well ;  wc  will  think  it  over  and  trj  to  do  wliat 
is  right.  You  wish  to  be  an  intelligent  citizen,  whatever 
your  business  is  ? " 

"  Yes,  father ;  but  I  don't  need  Latin  and  Greek  to 
be  an  intelligent  citizen,  do  I?  Mayn't  I  drop  them, 
right  away  ? " 

Mr.  Cameron  rubbed  hid  hand  across  the  lower  part  of 
his  face  with  a  slightly  impatient  gestm*e.  "  You  may 
finish  this  term.  You  can  leam  self-mastery  by  it,  if 
nothing  else.  You  may  go  now  and  take  care  of  the 
horse,  I  ought  to  be  off  for  Foxbridge  in  about  an 
hour." 

Robert  went  into  the  stable,  whistling  for  lightness  of 
heart.  He  knew  that  his  father  was  apt  to  say  less  than 
he  meant,  rather  than  more,  and  he  considered  his  case 
as  good  as  won.  Along  with  boundless  faith  in  his 
kindness,  the  young  Camerons  felt  for  their  father  that 
awe  which  a  dignified,  decided  character,  expressed  in 
every  feature,  is  apt  to  inspire ;  and  they  found  it  any- 
thing but  easy  to  oppose  his  well-known  wishes.  So  it 
was  that  Robert  felt  much  relieved  that  he  had  expressed 
his  mind  so  fully,  not  without  effect. 


II. 


THE    FAMILY    DISGRACED. 

MR.  CAMEROl!^,  like  ministers  generally,  liked  a 
good  horse.  More  than  that,  he  knew  how  to 
choose  and  manage  one,  and  his  two  boys  imitated  him  in 
being  fine  riders  and  drivers.  It  was  a  labor  of  love  for 
liobert  to  groom  black  Hannibal,  and,  this  moniing,  he 
favored  the  handsome  creature  with  some  extra  patting, 
and  confided  to  him  :  "  I  have  done  it,  old  fellow  ! " 

As  he  was  cm'rying  his  glossy  coat,  he  heard  a  rustling 
in  the  hay-loft,  and  called  :  "  Who  is  there?" 

A  gi'eater  rustling,  then  a  bomid,  and  down  peered 
Miriam's  fair  face,  her  thick  auburn  hair  well  sprinkled 
with  hay-seed.  She  came  down  the  rough  stairs,  her 
apron  gathered  up  in  her  left  hand  full  of  eggs. 

"  I  have  found  a  new  nest  the  further  side  of  the  hay- 
mow," she  said.  "  There  was  the  least  little  hole  in  the 
hay,  and  I  ran  my  arm  in  till  I  came  to  such  a  warm, 
smooth,  hard  handful !  See,  there  are  seven  of  them. 
I  should  think  those  hens  would  be  tired  of  trying  to 
hide  their  nests  from  me." 

"  Hens  have  not  much  sense,"  observed  Robeit.  "  They 
take  so  much  pains  to  hide  their  nests,  and  then  cackle 
for  the  whole  neighborhood  to  come  to  find  them." 

"  Just  like  some  people  who  make  a  great  parade  of 
having  a  secret  to  keep,"  remarked  the  sister.     She  came 
up  and  stroked  Hannibal's  face  as  she  asked,  "  Whiat  sort 
of  a  talk  did  you  have  with  father  ? " 
(12) 


THE    FAMILY    DISGRACED.  13 

"  Oil,  pretty  good.  He  said  he  would  think  it  over, 
and  that's  next  thing  to  saying  he  will  let  me  off." 

"  I  should  think  you  would  try,  for  father's  sake," 
said  Miriam,  her  eyes  resting  absently  on  a  lock  of  hay 
which  she  held,  while  the  horse  gradually  gathered  it  in 
with  his  great  lips. 

Mu-iam's  ruling  passion  was  love  for  her  father.  That 
fond,  tender  pride  on  the  one  side,  and  half  adoration  on 
the  other,  which  so  often  marks  the  affection  of  a  father 
and  his  oldest  daughter,  was  very  strong  between  them. 
To  please  him  was  her  first  thought ;  to  have  him  troubled 
or  thwarted  was  pain  to  her.  Eobert  was  not  surprised 
to  hear  her  say,  "  I  don't  see  how  you  can  help  doing 
what  he  wants  you  to." 

"Wliy,  Miriam,  I  don't  want  to  cross  his  wishes;  you 
know  I  don't ;  but  I  have  my  own  hfe  to  live,  and  I 
know  I  shall  make  a  failure  of  it  as  sure  as  I  go  into  this 
kind  of  thing.  I  don't  think  father  would  much  enjoy 
seeing  me  a  fourth-rate  minister,  always  hanging  around 
in  want  of  a  place." 

"  Why,  you  wouldn't  be  ! "  said  Miriam,  offended  at 
the  idea  that  her  father's  eldest  son  could  be  a  failure. 

"  What's  the  reason  ?  I  abominate  writing ;  I  have  no 
gift  for  speaking.  I  like  to  study  natural  philosophy 
well  enough,  or  anything  like  that,  that  you  can  do 
something  with;  but  languages,  and  such  things,  are 
nothing  but  a  drug  to  me.  Think  of  my  reeling  two 
sermons  a  week  out  of  my  brain  as  long  as  I  live  ! "  A 
shake  of  the  head  and  a  slap  on  Hannibal's  shining  thigh 
conveyed  what  words  failed  to  express. 

"But  father  wanted  you  to  do  so  much  good,"  sug- 
gested Miriam. 

"  Of  course  he  does,"  answered  Eobert,  taking  down 


14  theodoea:  a  home  stoky. 

the  harness  from  the  wall  and  throwing  it  over  the  horse, 
which  gave  a  nervous  shiver,  and  then  stood  stilh  "And 
so  I  want  to  ;  hut  a  poor  minister  isn't  so  useful  as  a  good 
farmer,  I  believe.  I  tell  you  what,  Miriam — whoa, 
Han  !  Open  yom-  teeth  ! — it  seems  to  me  as  if  God  had 
a  good  many  kinds  of  work  to  be  done  in  the  world,  and 
cut  men  out  to  tit  them.  I  don't  prebend  to  know  what 
He  meant  me  for — nothing  very  particular,  as  I  know  of ; 
but  one  thing  I'm  certain  of — it's  not  a  minister  !  You 
and  Donald  will  have  to  save  the  credit  of  the  family,  as 
far  as  books  go.  Stand  away,  now,  please.  I'm  going 
to  back  him  into  the  buggy." 

Miriam  ran  and  held  up  one  of  the  thills  with  her  free 
hand,  while  Hannibal  stepped  back  between  them.  Then, 
she  walked  slowly  into  the  house,  pondering  on  Ilobert's 
last  words  about  Donald  and  herself.  She  had  a  fine 
mind,  and  had  already  became  an  ambitious  scholar  for 
her  father's  sake.  He  was  always  chary  of  praise,  but  the 
thought  of  his  "  Well  done,  my  daughter,"  was  enough 
to  carry  her  through  the  hard  study  of  a  whole  term  at 
school.  As  she  walked  into  the  pantry  and  laid  the  eggs, 
one  by  one,  from  her  apron  into  their  basket,  she  was 
resolving,  deep  in  her  young  heart,  that  ehe  would  be  a 
scholar,  whether  Robert  was  or  not ;  whatever  she  could 
do  to  soothe  her  fathei-'s  disappointment,  should  be  done. 
Still  beneath  that  resolution  stirred  the  despairing  thought, 
what  could  she  do  ?  she  was  only  a  girl ! 

But  now  she  heard  Hannibal  trampling  out  of  the 
stable,  and  ran  into  the  sitting-room  to  see  her  father  off. 

He  kissed  the  girls  and  their  mother,  said  good-bye  to 
the  boys,  with  a  parting  charge  about  the  cow  and  the 
carden,  and  then  looked  back,  and  bowed  with  an  affec- 
tionate  smile  that  took  them  all  in  as  he  drove  away. 


THE   FAMILY    DISGRACED.  15 

"  WLere  's  papa  going  ? "  asked  Faith,  as  they  watched 
the  buggy  fast  disappearing  down  the  street. 

"  To  the  Association,"  answered  the  four  older  childi'en 
together, 

"  What 's  'Sociation  ?  "  she  asked,  not  much  enlight- 
ened. 

"  Oh,  the  ministers  get  together  and  discuss  and  crack 
jokes,  and  tell  stories,  and  have  a  big  dinner,"  explained 
Donald,  somewhat  irreverently. 

At  least  so  he  understood  the  little  admonitory  pat  on 
the  shoulder  his  mother  gave  him  as  she  turned  away 
from  the  door  with  Jessie  in  her  anns,  and  asked  : 

"  Well,  what  is  it  anyway,  mother,  if  it  isn't  that  ? " 

"  They  write  sermons,  and  essays,  and  explanations  of 
passages  in  the  Bible,  and  read  to  each  other  for  criticism, 
and  study  a  chapter  in  Hebrew  or  Greek  together,  and 
discuss  some  ^important  question  given  out  beforehand." 

"But  they  do  have  the  jokes,  and  stories,  and  dinner, 
too,  mother ;  for  I  remember  what  a  jolly  time  we  had 
when  they  were  here,"  said  Robert ;  and  upon  that,  the 
children  fell  to  recalling  the  funny  stories,  and  the  divers 
characteristics  of  different  ministers,  their  horses  and 
equipages. 

"  Don't  you  remember  what  a  poky  old  red  horse  Dr. 
White  had  ? "  asked  Robert  of  Donald ;  "  I  was  afraid  I 
should  pull  his  head  off,  when  I  led  him  out  to  water, 
it  stretched  his  neck  and  made  his  eyes  stick  out  so." 

"  Oh,  it  was  his  old  chaise  that  was  jDainted  yelloM^  and 
went  squeak  ity-squeak,"  exclaimed  Theodora ;  "  Faith 
and  I  rode  in  it  ever  so  much,  out  in  the  barn.  We  liked 
it  best  because  we  could  hear  ourselves  go." 

These  two  little  girls  seldom  failed  to  take  an  imagin- 
aiy  journey  in  any  visitor's  vehicle  that  happened  to  stand 


16  THEODORA  !    A    HOME   STOKY. 

in  tlie  yard  or  carriage-hoiise,  and  marvelous  were  the 
adventures  tliat  befell  tlieia  in  their  travels. 

"  How  the  ministers  did  laugh  at  him  about  that  toad  !  " 
exclaimed  Donald. 

"  Why,  what  was  it  about  the  toad  ? "  asked  Theodora 
eagerly. 

"  You  see  he  is  one  of  your  learned  men  who  has  every 
kind  of  sense  but  common  sense,"  said  Robert,  who 
cheiished  some  disgust  for  that  style  of  intellect.  "  It 
was  a  melting  day  they  came,  and  as  he  was  jogging 
along  across  that  sandy  plain  this  side  of  Dustville,  he 
noticed  a  large  toad  by  the  roadside.  He  had  time  to 
gaze  at  it  about  half  an  hour,  while  that  old  nag  of  his 
was  getting  by  it,  and  he  took  it  into  his  head  that  the 
poor  toad  looked  rather  faint,  sweltering  in  the  hot  sun. 
So  what  did  the  benevolent  old  gentleman  do,  but  get  out 
of  his  '  one-boss  shay,'  and  go  to  its  relief  !  He  looked  all 
around,  but  there  wasn't  a  rock  or  a  tree  anywhere  near  ; 
just  one  patch  of  shade  in  the  middle  of  the  road  was  all 
he  could  see.  So  he  took  up  the  panting  animile  and  set 
it  down  there — got  in  and  rode  off,  pleased  to  think  how 
he  had  ameliorated  its  condition,  when  you  see  it  was 
nothing  but  the  shadow  of  his  own  chaise  he  had  put  it 
in!" 

The  children  all  laughed,  but  Miriam  said : 

"  I  don't  believe  any  grown  man  could  do  such  a  silly 
thing,  and  father  says  Dr.  White  is  one  of  the  most 
learned  men  in  the  State." 

"  Learned  ?  Of  course  he  is  ;  he's  so  learned  he  can't 
see  anything  short  of  a  thousand  years  off.  It  was  a  fact, 
for  Mr.  Brown  saw  it,  and  overtook  him  just  after.  He 
said  Dr.  White  was  looking  uncommonly  mild  and  com- 
placent, and  said  it  was  a  satisfaction  to  relieve  the 
sufferings  of  a  fellow-creature,  however  humble." 


THE     FAMILY    DISGKACED.  17 

"  I  am  sure  that  was  nice  of  him,"  remarked  Miriam  ; 
but  Robert  only  laughed  the  more.  He  evidently  thouglit 
beneTolenee  and  bearing  made  a  sorry  iigure  out  of  the 
company  of  common  sense. 

"  Wasn't  Mr.  Brown's  horse  a  beauty ! "  exclaimed 
Donald !  "  He  let  me  take  a  ride  on  him,  and  I  tell  you 
the  way  we  went  was  a  caution  to  the  lame  or  the  lazy." 

"  Don't  you  remember  good  old  Mr.  Gray  was  here  ? " 
said  Miriam.  "  I  do  love  to  have  him  come  ;  he  beams 
on  us  and  calls  us  all  '  Dear, '  and  talks  such  broad 
Scotch  ! " 

"Yes,"  said  Donald,  "I  generally  hate  having  men  lay 
their  lian.ds  on  my  head,  as  if  I  was  a  baby ;  but  when  he 
lays  his  big  hand  on  my  head  and  says,  '  I  hope  ye  '11  be  a 
gret  an  gude  mon,  me  lad,'  I  feel  as  if  I  should." 

"  After  all,  there  's  nobody  like  Uncle  Thayer,"  said 
Theodora.  But  at  this  moment,  Mrs.  Cameron,  who  had 
gone  at  once  to  the  kitchen  on  leaving  the  door,  came 
back,  saying :  "  Come,  girls,  it  is  almost  school-time,  and 
I  want  you  to  be  sure  and  get  the  beds  made  before  you 
go;  and  Faith  must  amuse* the  baby  while  I  am  cooking. 
Boys,  you  better  see  that  the  new  hen-house  is  done 
before  it  is  time  to  make  the  garden." 

Mrs,  Cameron's  only  helpers  in  carrying  on  the  work 
of  the  family,  were  this  troop  of  fun-loving  children,  and 
it  dem..nded  much^exercise  of  her  vigorous  mind  to  lay 
the  plan  of  each  day's  campaign,  marshal  her  frolicsome 
forces,  inspire  them  to  action,  and  hold  them  to  their  duty. 
Nor  were  they  wasted  talents ;  the  motives  to  energy  and 
fidelity,  which  had  to  be  urged  upon  her  children  every 
day,  in  order  to  get  the  necessary  work  of  the  house 
done,  formed  no  small  part  of  their  education. 

It  was  towards  evening,  the  next  day,  that  the  father 


18  THEODORA  :    A    nOME    STORY. 

returned.  He  always  came  liome  from  these  meetings  of 
the  Association  quite  refreshed  in  spirit. 

"  Now,  father,  tell  us  all  about  it,  please,"  said  Donald, 
as  the  two  boys  came  in  after  seeing  Hannibal  in  his  stall, 
with  his  supper  before  him. 

"  Let  us  go  where  your  mother  is,  then,"  answered  Mr. 
Cameron,  who  had  just  finished  reading  the  letters  await- 
ing him. 

The  family  were  apt  to  gather  wherever  the  mother 
happened  to  be.  This  time  they  found  her  in  the  kitchen 
pouring  into  a  basin  some  maple  syrup,  which  looked  like 
li<|uid  amber.  Miriam  was  preparing  to  toast  the  bread 
for  supper,  and  Theodora,  who  had  just  finished  laying 
the  table,  followed  in  her  father's  train.  He  picked  up 
little  Jessie  from  the  floor,  gave  her  a  toss  towards  the 
ceiling  wdiich  made  the  pink  flush  red  in  her  cheeks,  and 
then  sat  down,  with  her  on  his  knee,  to  tell  his  story. 

The  young  Camerons  never  expected  toys  or  confec- 
tionery when  their  father  came  home,  but  the  great  pleas- 
ure they  always  looked  forward  to  was  hearing  him  "  tell 
all  about  it."  He  had  such  a  graphic  style  of  describing 
the  places  and  people  he  had  seen,  and  the  little  incidents 
that  had  occurred,  that  to  listen  to  him  was  almost  better 
than  going,  and  served  to  enlarge  the  horizon  of  their 
small  experience. 

As  he  finished  his  animated  story,  he  remarked : 

"I  spoke  with  Brother  Thayer  about  your  case, 
Robert," — the  brother  aforesaid  was  a  friend  so  intimate 
that  the  children  all  called  him  "Uncle" — "and  he 
thinks  with  me  that  you  are  too  young  to  leave  school 
yet,  whatever  you  are  to  do  in  future  ;  but  he  promised 
to  be  on  the  look-out  for  you,  and  to  write  about  it  to 
his  brother-in-law,  Walton,  who  is  an  excellent  business 


THE    FAMILY    DISGRACED.  1" 


man,  the  otlier  side  the  Mountain,  and  would  be  likely  to 
know  of  cliances."  . 

"  Thank  yon,  father."  Eobert  said  it  quite  demurely, 
out  of  respect  to  his  father's  feelings;  but  he  imme- 
diately followed  Miriam  mto  the  pantry,  and  relieved  his 
delight  by  spinning  her  around  thi-ee  or  four-  times,  then 
setthig  her  down  on  the  meal-chest,  with  the  joyful  ex- 

clamation :  ^^ 

"  The  college  business  is  settled,  you  see. 

"  Supper  is  ready !  "  called  the  mother,  as  she  took  the 
tea  from  the  stove ;  "  but  where  can  Faith  be  ? " 

"  Hasn't  she  come  from  school? "  ,   -,  ,    . 

"  No  "  answered  the  mother,  with  a  troubled  look. 
"The  teacher  had  her  stay  after  school  one  night,  for 
whispering,  but  she  surely  would  not  keep  her  till  this 
time  ;  it  is  six  o'clock." 

"  I  thought  I  saw  her  coming  half  an  hour  ago,     said 

Theodora.  ,  ^       t,    i,„„ 

"  Eun  and  see  if  you  cannot  find  her  ;  maybe  she  has 
ffone  down  to  the  spring  for  some  willow  '  pussies. 

While  Theodora  went  to  search  for  the  truant,  the  rest 
sat  down  to  the  table.     Mrs.  Cameron  hesitated  to  do  so 
for  she  was  worried  about  the  little  absentee ;  but  Donald 
suo-o-ested  that  his  father  must  be  hungry,  having  himself 
a  decided  preference  for  hot  toast  and  maple-honey.    _ 

Theodora  had  not  far  to  seek.  She  found  her  sister 
sitting  in  that  very  shed  door  where  we  first  saw  herse  f . 
In  fact,  that  threshold  was  a  favorite  seat  mth  all  the 
children,  and  well  it  might  be. 

From  it  steps  led  down  to  a  steep  hiUside,  overgrown 
with  raspberrv  and  mulberry  bushes,  overshadowed  here 
and  there  by  I  tall  oak  or  butternut  tree.  At  the  foot  of 
this  hill,  which  was  of  itself  a  wilderness  of  delights  and 


20  THEODOKA  :    A    HOME    STOKT. 

surprises  for  a  small  child,  was  a  never-failing  spring  of 
cold,  sweet  water.  The  mossy  old  hogshead  into  which 
it  welled,  reflected  a  round  bit  of  sky  fringed  \vith  nod- 
ding celandine  and  graceful  sprays  of  blackberry  vine, 
and  often  within  this  sweet  setting  the  bright  faces  of 
children.  A  little  brook,  flowing  lazily  from  the  spring, 
lay  like  a  moat  along  the  base  of  the  hill,  dividing  it  from 
the  level  meadows,  which  stretched  away,  a  wonder  of 
peaceful  beauty  through  all  the  summer  time.  ]^ow,  in 
their  place,  lay  a  glassy  lake,  for  the  Connecticut  was  at 
the  height  of  its  annual  freshet.  Beyond  rose  the  many- 
formed  New  Hampshire  hills,  just  tinged  with  those  faint 
clouds  of  color  that  softly  foreshadow  the  coming  ver- 
dure of  the  opening  year;  still  beyond  them  rose  the 
regal  heights  of  distant  mountains,  just  now  answering 
back  the  good-night  blessing  of  the  sinking  sun.  The 
western  hill  which  rose,  like  a  rampart,  all  along  be- 
hind the  village,  hid  him  early  from  the  valley  and  the 
river,  while  his  light  still  lingered  in  gloiy  about  those 
noble  summits. 

But  the  small  figure  in  the  doorway  seemed  to  be 
taking  little  heed  of  the  beautiful  scene  before  her.  Her 
Shaker  bonnet  was  tipped  doAvn  over  her  face  in  a 
strangely  dejected  manner  ;  there  was  something  pathet- 
ic in  the  droop  of  its  buif  cape  over  the  back  of  her 
head  and  chubby  neck. 

"  So  here  you  are  !"  cried  Theodora,  springing  towards 
her.     "  We  did  not  know  what  had  become  of  you." 

But  little  Faith  did  not  look  up,  and  the  Shaker  cape 
quivered  with  a  sob. 

"  Why,  Chickie,  what  is  the  matter  ? "  exclaimed  Theo- 
dora, stooping  to  take  off  the  bonnet  and  look  in  her 
face. 


THE    FAMILY    DISGKACED.  21 

Suddenly  brought  out  of  her  retirement  in  this  way, 
the  child  hid  her  eyes  in  the  sleeve  of  her  high-necked 
apron,  which  had  a  very  round  little  brown  fist  coming 
out  at  the  end  of  it,  and  began  to  weep  in  earnest. 

Theodora  sat  down  beside  the  mournful  wee  bit  wifie, 
and,  putting  her  arm  around  her,  stroked  her  round 
little  head. 

"  "What  is  the  matter  f  "  she  asked. 

"  I  've — I  've — 'sgraced  the  family,"  sobbed  the  morsel 
of  misery. 

Her  sister  managed  not  to  laugh,  and  asked,  patting 
her  cheek : 

"  Why,  what  have  you  done  ? '' 

Faith  shook  with  an  inward  tempest,  and  burst  forth 
with  a  desperate  crescendo. 

"  I  've  been  wh — wh — whipped  !  " 

"  Why,  you  poor,  dear  little  thing,  what  did  they  whip 
you  for  ? " 

"  She  said  she  should  ferule  us  if  we  missed  a  word  in 
spelling,  'cause  we  didn't  get  it  well  last  time ;  so  I 
studied  jest  as  tight  as  I  could,  and  I  got  it,  all  but  two 
or  three  words  that  wei'e  over  the  leaf,  I  didn't  see.  And 
then  one  of  those  very  words  went  and  came  to  me  and  I 
didn't  do  it  right." 

In  the  earnestness  of  telling  her  sad  tale,  Faith  looked 
up  in  her  sister's  eyes,  her  plump  little  face  quite  red 
and  tear-stained. 

"  What  was  the  word  ? "  asked  Theodora,  with  the 
curiosity  of  superior  knowledge. 

"  It  was  psalm  ;  and  I  thought  s-a-r-m  would  be  a  good 
way  to  spell  it — I  didn't  know — and  then  she  feruled  me 
because  I  didn't  put  -a.  p  and  an  I  to  it.  I  don't  see  what 
it  wants  oi  a.j)  and  an  ^,"  said  Faith,  her  lower  lip  press- 


22  THEODORA:    A    HOME    STORY, 

ing  up  again  in  grief  and  indignation  ;  "  I  don't  b'lieve 
she'd  ow^A^  to  whip  me!  And  there  never  was  any  of 
us  whipped  to  school  before,  and  I  can't  never  go  into 
the  house  again.     I  've  'sgraced  the  fam'ly." 

Here  she  hid  her  face  on  her  sister's  shoulder  and  cried 
aloud. 

Theodora  j3ut  both  anns  around  her,  and  said : 

"  Don't  cry ;  you  tried  to  do  as  well  as  you  could ; 
father  and  mother  won't  blame  you.  It  isn't  a  bit  as  if 
you  had  been  a  naughty  girl,  you  know." 

"  They  won't  be  glad  to  see  me,  I'm  'fraid,"  whispered 
Faith. 

"  Oh,  yes,  they  will !  Father  has  come  home  and  we 
have  hot  maple-honey  for  supper,  and  mother  is  worried 
because  you  don't  come." 

Certainly  the  mention  of  maple-honey  did  create  a 
diversion  in  the  feelings  of  the  mourner.  There  was  a 
sensible  abatement  of  her  agitation. 

"  I  will  run  in  first  and  tell  them  about  it,  if  you  want 
me  to,"  said  Theodora. 

Faith  seemed  to  acquiesce,  for  she  raised  her  head,  but 
she  shook  it  sadly,  and  remarked : 

"  P'raps  they'll  be  ashamed  to  ever  have  me  come  in 
any  more — the  firs'  child  that  ever  got  whipped  to 
school !  " 

Theodora  darted  into  the  house,  and  in  two  or  three 
minutes  Faith  heard  her  mother  calling  : 

"  Come  in,  my  little  gii'l,  come  in  and  eat  your  supper." 

She  looked  up  with  a  humble,  apologetic  air,  but  her 
mother  was  coming  to  meet  her,  smiling  kindly,  and  she 
took  her  small  hand  in  hers,  which  always  felt  so  warm 
and  firm,  caressing  her  cheek  with  the  othei-  hand,  as  she 
led  her  in. 


THE   FAMILY   DISGKACKD.  23 

Her  father  pushed  back  from  the  table  and  held  out 
his  arms  to  her.  He  took  her  ou  his  knee  and  kissed  her 
little  downcast  face  two  or  three  times,  gave  her  one 
close  hug,  and  set  her  down,  saying  : 

"  Now  eat  your  supper,  my  dear." 

They  came  of  a  race  not  given  to  kissing  and  embrac- 
ing, however  deep  their  feelings  might  be,  so  that  even 
little  Faith  felt,  when  her  father  gave  her  that  greeting, 
instead  of  one  kiss,  that  he  did  not  blame  her  for  disgrac- 
ing the  family-.  Robert  lifted  her  into  her  high-chair, 
and  everyone  seemed  anxious  to  help  her  to  something. 

The  little  maid  had  some  doubts  whether  it  was  cus- 
tomary for  persons  in  deep  affliction  to  eat  as  much  as 
usual,  but  the  maple-honey  was  irresistible;  so  she  suf- 
fered lierseK  to  be  comforted. 

Nothing  was  said  about  her  misfortune  until  she  was 
put  to  bed  at  twilight.  Then  her  mother  took  her  in  her 
lap,  while  she  unbuttoned  her  frock,  and  said  : 

"  Now,  my  little  girl,  tell  me  all  about  the  trouble  at 
school." 

When  she  had  finished,  her  mother  asked  : 

"  Are  you  sure  that  is  all  ?  that  you  did  not  play  nor 
behave  badly  ? " 

"I  was  jest  as  good  as  pie,"  said  Faith,  positively. 
"  Only  I  didn't  see  those  words  over  the  leaf." 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  the  teacher  so  ? " 

"  I  tried  to,  but  she  said  she  wouldn't  have  no  words 
'bout  it.  And  she  took  my  fingers  jes'  so,"  said  Faith, 
bending  them  back  with  her  other  hand  so  as  to  bring 
her  rosy  cushion  of  a  palm  in  bold  relief,  "  and  she  hit  it 
pretty  hard,  five  or  twenty  times,  I  guess,  but  I  held  on 
jest  as  hard  as  I  could,  and  I  didn't  cry,  only  one  little 
speck  when  she  first  begun.     That  was  right,  wasn't  it  ?  " 


24  THEODORA:    A    HOME    STORY. 

Faith's  mother  smiled  on  her,  but  slie  only  said : 

"  I  think  Miss  Dodge  didn't  quite  understand  about  it. 
She  must  have  thought  you  were  careless  and  didn't  try 
to  learn ;  but  if  you  are  a  good  little  girl  and  do  just  as 
well  as  you  can,  I  don't  think  you  will  be  feruled  again. 
There,  dear,  put  your  head  through,"  holding  up  the 
night-dress  in  a  circle. 

As  the  little  brown  head  emerged  from  the  white 
folds,  the  mother  met  it  with  a  kiss ;  then  they  knelt 
down,  and  after  the  child  had  said  her  nightly  prayers, 
her  mother  asked  that  God  would  bless  her  at  school  as 
well  as  at  home,  and  bless  her  teacher,  too,  and  show  her 
how  to  take  care  of  all  the  little  girls  and  boys  in  her 
charge. 

Neither  parent  said,  in  so  many  words,  that  Faith  was 
innocent  and  her  teacher  was  guilty  ;  they  were  anxious 
to  cherish  respect  for  all  lawful  authority,  still  she  felt  in 
her  honest  little  heart  that  they  did  her  justice  in  their 
thoughts ;  especially  the  next  morning  at  2">rayers,  when  her 
father  called  her  to  place  her  small  chair  beside  him,  and 
went  out  of  the  usual  course  to  read  from  one  of  Peter's 
Epistles,  laying  his  hand  on  her  head  when  the  words 
were  read  :  "  What  glory  is  it  if,  when  you  are  buffeted 
for  your  faults,  ye  take  it  patiently  ?  but  if,  when  ye  do 
well  and  suffer  for  it,  ye  take  it  patiently,  this  is  accept- 
able with  God." 

Yet  the  fact  remained,  like  a  sting  in  her  memoiy, 
that  she  alone  of  all  the  family  had  been  whipped  at 
school,  and  she  felt  that  she  had  received  a  wrong  at  the 
hands  of  her  teacher.  Not  that  corporal  punishment  was 
an  entirely  new  thing  to  the  child ;  she  was  a  stubborn 
little  creature  who  had  required  severer  discipline  than 
any  of  her  brothers  and  sisters,  and  of  them  all,  Miriam 


THE     FAMILY    DISGr.ACED.  25 

was  tlie  only  one  who  bad  never  been  forcibly  tangbt  tbat 
the  way  of  transgressors  is  hard.  But  neither  father  nor 
mother  ever  punished  them  except  for  something  really 
wrong,  nor  then,  without  careful  investigation  of  the  facts. 

In  a  day  or  two,  Faith  confided  to  Theodora  that  she 
didn't  b'lieve  but  what  the  teacher  was  'most  sorry  she 
feruled  her  so  that  she  couldn't  never  say — not  if  she. 
lived  to  be  a  hundred  years  old — that  she  wasn't  ever 
whipped  to  school. 

When  Theodora  shared  tliis  confidence  with  her  father 
and  mother,  they  exchanged  smiles,  and  as  soon  as  she 
had  left  the  room,  Mr.  Cameron  remarked  : 

"  So  your  call  was  not  lost  on  Miss  Dodge  ? " 

"  'No  ;  I  thought  she  would  do  better,  not  only  for 
Faith,  but  the  rest,"  answered  his  wife.  "  She  has  no 
experience  in  the  care  of  children,  but  a  great  idea  of 
making  them  mind,  and  she  doesn't  seem  to  have  realized 
that  justice  is  the  first  element  in  good  government." 

"  She  vrill  gain  in  tact  and  discrimination.  It  is  worth 
something  to  find  a  teacher  in  these  public  schools 
resolved  on  order  and  obedience." 

"  That's  true  enough.  I  don't  know  what  is  to  become 
of  the  country,  if  children  are  to  grow  up  governed 
neither  at  home  nor  at  school." 

"  Did  she  take  your  suggestions  pleasantly  ? " 

"  Yery  ;  there  seemed  to  be  a  touch  of  offence  about 
her  at  first ;  but  before  I  came  away,  she  said  she  was 
really  thankful  to  me  for  coming." 

And  Miss  Dodge  toas  thankful  to  the  woman  who, 
instead  of  scolding  about  her  mistaken  management,  had 
come  so  frankly  and  gently  to  her.  She  felt  that  this 
treasure  of  motherly  wisdom  was  a  new  resource  in  the 
bewildering  pei"plexity  of  her  duties. 
2 


III. 

THE   HEAD   OF   THE   SPKIKG. 

AUTUMN  had  come.  If  you  have  ever  lived  in  the 
bill-conntiy  of  I^ew  England,  you  know  bow  much 
that  means.  You  know  grey,  craggy  fortresses  which 
rise  against  the  sky,  encircled  by  solemn  guards  of 
spruce  and  hemlock,  in  their  unchanging  green,  while 
below,  over  all  the  broad  hill-side, 

"  Ten  thousand  banners  rise  into  the  air, 
With  orient  colors  waving." 

You  have  seen  hosts  of  maples  in  scarlet  and  gold,  with 
silver-stemmed  birches,  rank  above  rank,  flash  out  the 
triumph  of  the  year,  while  at  their  feet,  the  clearness  of 
a  mountain  river  mingled  the  flaming  glories  of  the 
woods  with  the  brooding  blue  and  floating  clouds  of 
heaven. 

Those  were  delicious  days  to  the  young  Camerons. 
That  grave  question  which  vexes  the  wise  heads  of 
Christendom  :  How  can  our  young  people  be  amused  ? 
never  seemed  to  trouble  them.  Nature  looked  out  for 
that.     They  found  exhaustless  joys  in — 

"  Knowledge  never  learned  of  schools, 
Of  the  wild  bee's  morning  chase, 
Of  the  wild  flowers  time  and  place, 
(36) 


THE    HEAD    OF    TIIK    SPRING.  27 

Flight  of  fowl  and  habitude 
Of  the  tenants  of  the  wood  : 
How  the  tortoise  bears  his  shell, 
How  the  woodchuck  digs  his  cell, 
And  the  ground-mole  sinks  his  well; 
How  the  robin  feeds  her  young, 
How  the  oreole's  nest  is  hung; 
Where  the  whitest  lilies  blow. 
Where  the  freshest  berries  grow. 
Where  the  ground-nut  trails  its  vine, 
Where  the  wood-grape's  clusters  shine; 
Of  the  black  wasp's  cunning  way, 
Mason  of  his  walls  of  clay, 
And  the  architectural  plans 
Of  grey  hornet  artisans!" 

A  favorite  playmate  of  theirs  was  a  brook  wbicli  came 
dashing  out  of  the  woods  which  skirted  the  village  on 
the  north,  and,  after  a  few  frolicsome  plunges,  took  its 
way  quietly  across  the  meadows,  as  if  training  itself  to 
the  dignity  of  the  river  it  was  soon  to  join. 

Robert's  seventeenth  birthday  fell  on  Saturday,  and  he 
chose  to  celebrate  it  by  a  nutting  expedition  with  Donald, 
Miriam,  and  Theodora ;  Faith,  to  her  chagrin,  being 
pronounced  too  young  to  join  them.  He  had  the  feeling 
that  he  should  soon  be  too  much  of  a  man  to  go  nutting, 
and  would  like  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  once  more. 

Theodora  was  full  of  delight,  for  the  plan  was  to 
reach  the  beech-grove  by  following  up  the  brook  nearly 
two  miles — just  what  she  had  long  desired  to  do.  She 
knew  every  mossy  rock  it  rippled  past  in  its  lower  course, 
but  she  always  wanted  to  see  where  her  old  friend  came 
from.  A  touch  of  adventure,  which  gave  the  keenest 
zest  to  pleasure  for  her,  was  just  so  much  abatement, of 
it  for  Miriam,  who  was  not  only  a  little  timid,  but  had  a 


28  THEODOKA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

dainty  dislike  for  being  soiled  or  torn.  Donald  was  in 
overflowing  spirits.  Besides  the  other  charms  of  the 
excursion,  there  was  the  manlj  sense  of  superiorit}'  in 
taking  the  girls  over  ground  new  to  them,  though  quite 
familiar  to  him  as  well  as  Eobert. 

Their  mother  put  them  up  a  basket  of  lunch,  taking 
care  to  have  a  good  supply  of  apple-turnovers,  which  were 
Robert's  special  delight.  Her  children  could  not  have 
valuable  presents  on  their  birthdays,  except  as  she 
managed  that  some  necessary  new  article  of  dress  should 
make  its  timely  ajDpearance  just  then  ;  but  some  little 
pleasure  was  almost  always  devised  to  mark  the  occasion, 
remembered,  perhaps,  more  delightfully  than  costly  gifts 
would  have  been. 

Theodoi'a  was  wild  with  delight  as  she  came  upon 
mimic  cascades,  with  feilis  and  asters  forever  trembling 
in  their  edges,  or  pools  where  the  brook  was  pausing  for 
a  moment  to  bethink  itsslf  of  some  new  prank,  while  the 
sunsliine  flickered  through  the  shade,  down  to  its  many- 
colored  pebbles  ;  then  it  ran  on,  laughing,  to  some  bolder 
leap  or  some  audacious  dash  at  the  rocks  which  disputed 
its  passage.  She  kept  near  Donald,  who  led  the  way,  and 
nothing  pleased  them  better  than  to  find  their  path  cut 
off  by  the  steep  bank,  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  cross 
the  brook. 

Then  came  the  delicious  thrill  of  springing  across ! 
The  birches  nodded  their  graceful  heads  at  one  another, 
as  if  they  liked  to  see  the  little  girl,  poised  on  a  rock  in 
the  middle  of  the  stream,  with  the  frolicsome  water 
eddying  all  around  her,  her  hair  shaken  back,  her  cheeks 
glowing,  and  her  eyes  bright  with  daring  as  th^y 
measured  the  leap  to  the  shore  ;  then  what  shouts  of 
triumph  rang  through  the  forest  as  she  landed  beside  her 


THE    HEAD   OF    THE    SPEINO.  29 

brother,  and  what  merry  taunts  they  flung  back  as  they 
saw  Robeii  throwing  a  log  across  for  a  bridge,  because 
Miriam  was  afraid  to  venture  ! 

"When  there  was  no  room  for  a  foothold  on  either  edge 
of  the  brook,  they  had  to  make  a  detour  through  the 
woods.  But  this,  too,  had  its  pleasures,  for  sprigs  of 
trailing  evergreens  peered  through  the  thick  bed  of  pine 
needles,  and  they  liked  to  rip  up  the  long  vines  with  their 
tufts  of  feathery  green.  Then  there  were  such  exquisite 
cushions  of  moss  as  one  never  finds  except  when  ^Nature  is 
left  quite  alone  to  cover  her  ruins  with  a  regretful  beauty. 

"  We  are  almost  through,"  said  Robert  at  last. 

"  Oh,  are  we  ? "  exclaimed  Theodora  ;  "  I  wish  we 
could  get  lost  in  the  woods  !  " 

"  You  would  want  to  be  found  about  supper-time,"  re- 
marked the  practical  Kobert. 

But  her  mind  was  full  of  wonder  as  to  what  she 
should  see  when  they  were  "  through."  She  had  always 
longed  to  know  what  was  behind  the  top  of  that  high 
hill  which  the  forest  covered.  If  she  could  see  over 
these,  she  should  see  what  the  world  was  like  ! 

Donald  had  dashed  up  the  last  climb,  and  was  stand- 
ing on  a  huge  boulder  with  a  background  of  sky.  As  he 
waved  his  hat  and  shouted  to  them,  with  his  hair  flowing 
in  the  breeze,  Theodora  could  think  of  nothing  but  the 
picture  of  Balboa  catching  the  first  glimpse  of  the 
Pacific.  It  seemed"  as  if  an  ocean  would  break  upon  her 
sight  if  she  could  stand  bcoide  him.  She  scrambled  up 
the  bank  and  the  rock,  Donald  lending  her  a  hand. 

A  pasture,  with  cattle  browsing,  a  little  weather-stained 
farm-house  and  farm,  a  higher  hill,  quite  brown  and  bare, 
with  a  few  mountain-tops  peeping  over  its  shoidders — 
that  was  all. 


30  THEODORA :  a  home  story. 

Was  that  all  the  world  was  like  ?  Just  a  little  home, 
with  a  higher  hill  to  climb,  and  momi tains  yet  beyond  ? 
But  then  the  sky  over  all  was  very  beautiful,  with  its 
fathomless  blue  and  its  slowly-sailing  clouds. 

"  It's  my  opinion  there  couldn't  be  a  better  time  for 
lunch,"  remarked  Robert. 

"  It's  my  opinion  there  miglit  be  a  better  place,"  said 
Miriam ;  "  I  expect  the  next  sight  I  see  will  be  myself 
going  head  foremost  off  this  rock  into  the  brook." 

"  Come  around,  then,  to  the  beeches,"  said  Robert,  "  it's 
only  a  few  steps.  Then  we'll  find  om*  dessert  on  the 
ground." 

"  You  were  always  wanting  to  know  where  the  brook 
came  from,"  said  Donald  to  Theodora ;  "  there  is  the 
head  of  it,  np  where  that  cow  is  drinking." 

She  looked  across  the  field  and  saw  a  little  stream 
trickling  through  a  hollowed  log,  the  damp,  black  earth 
all  around  it  trodden  by  the  hoofs  of  cattle  ;  out  of  this 
ran  a  narrow  thread  of  water,  without  a  shrub  to  grace 
its  border,  slinking  across  the  pasture  to  hide  itself  in  the 
woods. 

The  poor  child  could  say  nothing.  The  brook  always 
looked  as  if  it  came  out  of  the  skies. 

"  I  am  just  hungry  enough,"  said  Robert,  as  he  threw 
himself  down  and  oj^ened  the  lunch-basket. 

"■  I  never  sa\\  the  time  you  were  not  just  hungry 
enough  for  apple-turnovers,"  observed  Donald. 

"  Base  insinuation !  You  know  when  you  are  ram- 
pant, raving,  omnivorous  hungry,  you  can't  stop  to  enjoy 
eating ;  and  if  you  are  not  hungry  at  all,  you  don't  ap- 
preciate." 

"  And  I  am  just  tired  enough  to  enjoy  sitting  down." 
said  Miriam,  trying  to  settle  herself  among  the  roots  of  a 


THE   HEAD   OF   THE    SPEING.  31 

tree.  "  Isn't  it  odd,  roots  are  never  made  exactly  right 
for  a  seat  ?  They  look  as  inviting  as  can  be,  and  then 
they  just  slip  you  ofE.  There  is  always  such  a  dreadful 
downwardness  to  them," 

"Inconsiderate  of  trees.  Say,  Donald,  drag  up  that 
piece  of  board,  wiU  you  ?  There,  lay  it  across  that  stone 
and  that  root.     How's  that  ?" 

"  Oh  !  that  makes  a  capital  seat,"  said  Miriam,  leaning 
her  back  against  a  tree  with  great  content,  "  You  have 
a  knack,  like  father,  of  making  things  comfortable,  haven't 
you,  Robert  ? " 

"  Ain't  you  mistaken  in  the  person  ? "  inquired 
Donald. 

"  No ;  you  brought  it,  but  he  thought  of  it.  Here, 
Theodora,  there's  plenty  of  room  for  you,  too," 

But  Theodora  liked  better  to  curl  down  on  a  heap  of 
crisp  leaves  beside  a  mossy  log,  so  Donald  took  the  other 
seat  on  the  "  dais." 

A  horse  in  the  neighboring  pasture  lifted  his  head,  and 
looked  over  the  fence  at  them  with  some  curiosity. 

"  I  believe  he  is  glad  to  see  us,"  said  Theodora. 

"  Of  course  he  is,"  answered  Donald.  "  Horses  like 
people,  and  I  have  no  doubt  they  get  lonesome  out  in  the 
pasture.'' 

"  Tliere,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  help  yourselves,"  said 
Robert,  passing  around  the  bread  and  butter  and  dried 
beef  on  the  cover  of  the  basket — 

"  '  On  turkey,  fowl  and  fishes, 
They  sumptuously  do  dine, 
In  gold  and  silver  dishes 
Their  costly  viands  shine.'  " 

"  Where  did  you  pick  up  that  bit  of  doggerel  ? "  asked 
Donald. 


32  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOKT. 

"  Don't  yon  know,  sonny  ?  That  is  one  stanza  from  a 
popular  ballad  composed  in  England  about  Revolutionary 
times,  concerning  your  illustrious  forefathers,  to  show 
how  luxuriously  they  lived  over  here,  and  how  well  they 
could  afford  to  pay  their  taxes." 

"  A  drink  of  water  would  be  the  greatest  luxury  I  can 
think  of,"  said  Miriam. 

"  I  was  just  thinking  that  same  thing.  Donald,  sup- 
pose you  take  this  tin  dipper  and  make  a  trip  to  the  spring." 

"  Suppose  7/ou  do,"  suggested  Donald. 

"  It  is  proper  small  boys  should  do  tliese  little  things. 
"When  a  man  gets  to  be  my  age,"  said  Robert,  stroking 
bis  upper  lip,  which  was  shaded  with  the  least  jDossible 
promise  of  its  future  harvest,  "  it  is  suitable  he  should  be 
waited  on,  more  or  less." 

"  I  thought  you  seemed  to  be  getting  a  little  infirm,  as 
we  came  uj)  the  brook,"  replied  Donald,  rising  good- 
natm-edly  to  take  the  dipper. 

"  See  !  "  exclaimed  Theodora,  presently  ;  "  he  has  made 
friends  with  that  horse." 

He  was  walking  along  with  one  arm  over  the  horse's 
neck,  stroking  his  face. 

"  Oh,  see !  see  !"  she  cried  again. 

He  had  guided  the  creature  up  to  a  stump,  and  leaped 
upon  his  back. 

The  horse  seemed  sui-prised  at  first,  and  trotted  briskly 
towards  the  bars,  while  his  young  rider  waved  the  tin  cup 
in  the  sun,  and  looked  back,  laughing.  After  a  few  turns 
around  the  field,  which  they  both  seemed  to  enjoy, 
Donald  took  leave  of  him  at  the  spring. 

As  he  came,  bringing  the  water,  Robert  called  out : 

"  Maybe  Mr.  Hawks  didn't  turn  out  his  horse  to  be  rid- 
den by  every  boy  that  comes  along." 


THE   HEAD   OF   THE    SPRING.  33 

"  I  am  not  eveiy  boy  that  comes  along,"  said  Donald, 
handing  the  dipper  to  Miriam.  "  I  would  just  as  lief 
have  him  see  me  as  not,  else  I  wouldn't  have  done  it." 

Donald  did  not  look  like  "  every  hoy  that  comes 
along."  It  was  not  so  much  his  thick,  soft  hair,  with 
just  wave  enough  in  it  to  assert  its  freedom,  nor  his  large, 
laughing  brown  eyes,  nor  his  rich  color ;  it  was  something 
which  expressed  itself  in  the  toss  of  the  hair,  the  flush- 
ing of  the  color,  the  changing  light  of  the  eyes.  He  had 
all  that  frank,  joyous  fullness  of  life,  that  is  apt  to 
throw  such  a  refreshing  atmosphere  about  a  boy  of  thir- 
teen or  fourteen,  and  much  beside. 

"  Mr.  Hawks  is  a  friend  of  mine.  He  told  me  there 
wa'n't  no  better  land  outdoors  than  this  farm  of  his,  and 
if  I'd  come  up  and  spend  the  Summer  with  him  he'd 
learn  me  'nough  sight  more  than  I'd  git  down  to  the 
'cademy,  and  make  me  tough  as  a  knot." 

"  That's  a  line  animal,"  said  Kobert,  taking  scientific 
aim  with  a  pebble  at  a  sleek,  brindled  ox,  grazing  near 
the  fence.  The  ox  shook  off  the  pebble  with  a  twitch  of 
his  hide,  taking  it  for  some  big  fly,  and  Robert  went  on  : 
"  If  I  had  a  meadow  farm,  with  a  yoke  or  two  of 
creatures  like  that  to  till  it,  I'd  snap  my  fingers  at  the 
best  business  chance  you  could  show  me." 

"JSTow,  I  should  think  you  would  rather  go  into  a 
store,"  said  Miriam  ;  "  it  is  so  much  cleaner  work." 

"  Cleaner  ! "  exclaimed  Robert,  with  contempt ;  "  girls 
think  of  nothing  but  looking  just  so  prim  and  nice. 
Earth  is  clean  enough.  It  is  a  great  deal  cleaner  and 
fresher  and  sweeter,  working  out  in  the  o]3en  field,  than 
it  is  stived  up  in  a  country  store." 

"  What  a  clean,  fresh,  sweet-looking  object  that  is,  for 
instance,"  said  Miriam,  with  a  quiet  smile,  nodding 
2* 


34  THEODOEA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

towards  Mr.  Hawks,  who  was  just  throwing  down  a  pair 
of  bars  at  a  little  distance,  while  his  oxen  waited  with  a 
cart-lord  of  manure.  However  jocund  he  might  drive 
his  team  afield,  he  certainly  was  duty  and  ragged  as  a 
beggar.  "  Would  you  like  to  see  yourself  looking  like 
that^" 

"  I  don't  care  how  I  look.  Besides,  there  is  no  need 
of  his  making  a  scarecrow  of  himself  if  he  hadn't  a  taste 
for  it." 

Robert  does  not  know  his  own  heart  if  he  thinks  he 
doesn't  care  how  he  looks ;  else,  why  has  he  such  a  hor- 
ror of  wearing  anything  that  could  by  the  remotest  chance 
be  called  "  dandified  "  ?  Why  did  he  beg  to  go  on  wear- 
ing that  grey  tweed,  though  his  growing  arms  were 
pushing  his  wrists  quite  out  of  the  sleeves,  rather  than 
have  his  fathei*'s  broadcloth  made  over  for  him  ?  Doesn't 
his  mother  know,  to  her  cost,  that  though  he  is  reckless 
of  neck-ties,  he  is  fastidious  as  to  shirts  and  hose  ? 
Moreover,  with  all  his  partiality  for  old  clothes,  there  is  a 
free-and-easy  neatness  about  him  that  goes  well  with  his 
honest  blue  eyes,  Saxon  complexion,  and  closely-clipped 
hair. 

"  Why  don't  you  go  onto  a  farm,  if  you  like  it  so 
much  ? "  asked  Theodora. 

"  Easier  said,  than  done,"  he  answered.  "  A  man  can't 
make  anything,  farming  here  in  Xew  England,  unless  he 
has  an  inheritance  to  start  with.  There  is  no  way  to  do 
it  but  to  go  far;  and  I  have  disappointed  father  so 
much  already,  I  don't  like  to  urge  that.  If  Mr.  Walton 
gives  me  the  chance  he  wrote  about,  I  suppose  1  shall 
take  it,  and  be  thankful." 

"  If  you  drive  as  sharp  bargains  as  you  used  to,  when 
we  had  the  store  in  the  barn  and  traded  for  pins,  you  will 
naake  a  successful  merchant,"  remarked  Donald. 


THE    HEAD    OF   THE    SPKING.  35 

"  Oh,  I  rather  think  I  should  make  it  go.  Like  to  try- 
it,  anyhow." 

And  he  did  try  it,  the  following  Spring. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  the  merry  party  started  for 
home. 

"  JSFow,  I  might  cut  aci'oss  to  the  pasture,  and  drive  tho 
cow  home,"  said  Donald,  when  they  were  half-way  down 
the  brook. 

"  Oh,  let  me  go  with  you  !  "  said  Theodora,  who  was 
always  eager  to  go  wherever  Donald  went. 

"  Come  on,  then."     He  liked  it  about  as  well  as  she  did. 

"  Can't  we  meet  at  the  edge  of  the  woods  ? "  asked 
Miriam. 

"  Yes,  where  you  come  into  the  road.  We  will  go 
home  in  a  solid  phalanx." 

"  We  will  take  your  evergreen  for  you,  then,"  said 
Robert,  i-elieving  them  of  the  long  vines  which  were 
heaped  on  shoulders  and  arms.  "  There — ^good  luck  to 
you  !     Don't  tell  the  cow  any  lies ! " 

"  Oh,  hush !  "  exclaimed  Donald,  rather  teased.  Theo- 
dora siezed  him  by  the  jacket  and  kept  him  waiting  while 
she  could  ask : 

"  What  is  it  about  telling  the  cow  lies  ? " 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ?  When  Donald  was  a  little 
shaver,  he  came  into  the  house,  one  day,  ciying  because 
he  had  '  told  the  cow  a  lie.'  He  stood  by  the  bars  and 
shook  the  peck  measure  to  her.  She  thought  he  had 
some  potatoes,  and  came  running  post  haste,  and  then  he 
hadn't  a  thing  for  her." 

"  Come  on !  "  cried  Donald,  springing  up  the  bank. 

They  went  crashing  through  the  woods,  trampling 
on  dry  tw' igs,  rustling  through  leaves,  dodging  under  low 
branches,  scrambHng  over   brush   fences,  breaking   the 


36  THEODORA  I    A    HOME   STOKT. 

brightest  of  the  flaming  maple  boughs,  till  they  came  out 
upon  the  open  fields. 

"  There's  Polly,"  said  Donald,  pointing ;  "  in  the  next 
pasture  beyond  this." 

As  they  walked  slowly  across  the  field,  Donald  said — 
picking  some  rusty  leaves  from  the  golden  bough  in  his 
hand — "You  know  what  I'm  going  to  do  to-morrow, 
Theodora?" 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  ;  but  she  could  say  no  more.  She 
knew  that  on  the  morrow  lier  brother  was  to  stand  up  in 
the  village  church  and  take  upon  himself  the  vows  of 
God.  They  had  never  before  spoken  together  of  this ; 
but  Theodora  had  thought  it  over  not  a  little.  She  was 
glad  to  have  him  do  it,  because  she  had  no  doubt  it  was 
the  right  thing  to  be  done,  and  she  liked  Donald  to  be 
just  right ;  yet  she  dreaded  it,  with  the  feeling  that  it 
might  make  a  separation  between  them. 

"  I  know  I  am  not  half  good  enough,"  said  Donald  ; 
"  but  Christ  wants  us  to  confess  Him,  and  I  want  to. 
You  know  what  the  Bible  says  about  leaving  your  gift  on 
the  altar  till  you  go  and  get  forgiven  by  your  brother,  or 
something  hke  that,"  he  said,  slowly.  "  I  know  I  have 
been  outrageously  selfish  to  you,  many  a  time,  and  I 
think  it  was  mean  and  hateful  in  me,  and  I  just  want 
you  to  forgive  me." 

"  No,  you  haven't,"  she  answered,  with  warmth.  "  I'm 
sure  you  have  always  been  good  to  me." 

Donald  shook  his  head  positively.  "  I  was  stingy  about 
those  English  stamps,  and  I  might  have  fixed  it  to  have 
you  go  boat-riding  with  us,  every  time,  last  Spring,  if  I 
had  taken  a  little  pains ;  and  I  always  made  you  weed 
the  onions  when  we  worked  in  the  gcirden  last  Summer, 
and — Tv^ell,  I  am  glad  if  you  can't  think  of  so  many 
mean  things  as  I  can." 


THE    HEAD    OF    THE    SPRING.  37 

Theodora  longed  to  say  that  there  wasn't  another  girl 
in  creation  that  had  so  nice  a  brother  as  she,  but  she  did 
not  know  how  to  say  anything.  However,  silences  differ 
almost  as  much  as  sayings,  and  Donald  understood  hers. 

"I  wish  you  were  coming  with  me,  to-morrow,"  he 
said. 

And  she  answered  soberly,  "  I  wish  so,  too." 

Polly  evidently  saw  them  coming,  but  she  waited  for 
them,  and  then  rose  slowly  enough  to  show  that  it  was 
from  choice,  not  necessity. 

"  Look  !  there  are  Robert  and  Miriam  waiting  f  oi"  us," 
said  Theodora,  as  they  reached  the  road.  "  See,  on  that 
log  under  the  willows." 

Miriam's  hands  were  full  of  purple  aster-stars,  and  nod- 
ding plumes  of  golden-rod,  and  Robert  was  quite  loaded 
with  evergreen  vines. 

"  Let  us  have  your  hats  to  trim  like  ours,"  said  Miriam. 

"  See  here,  let's  decorate  Polly,"  cried  Donald,  while 
she  was  twining  the  evergreen  wreaths. 

"  Yes,"  said  Robert,  "  that's  a  capital  idea.  Polly  may 
as  well  carry  a  lot  of  this  evergreen  as  I.  So !  Polly, 
so!" 

The  heavy  vines  they  threw  about  her  stout  neck  were 
very  graceful  and  pretty,  but  she  did  not  seem  to  appre- 
ciate. She  submitted,  however,  to  gratify  fhem,  and  then 
they  all  started  on  with  her  in  the  midst.  Polly  had  a 
handsome  pah*  of  horns,  which  she  wore  with  quite  an  air, 
tossing  her  head  gently  at  every  step  ;  moreover,  the  tail, 
with  which  she  slowly  brushed  her  well-rounded  sides, 
terminated  in  a  long  white  tassel,  which  she  might  well 
take  some  pride  in.  She  paced  along  with  that  pensive 
deliberation  becoming  a  cow  of  the  highest  respectability 
on  which   eight   human  beings   are  largely   dependent. 


38  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

Occasionally  she  turned  her  mild,  dark  blue  eves  on  her 
lively  escort,  as  if  they  belonged  to  some  more  thought- 
less species,  without  her  grave  experience. 

As  she  turned  into  the  grassy  yard  beside  the  parson- 
age with  her  cortege.  Faith  and  baby  Jessie,  who  were 
sitting  on  the  door-step,  watching  for  them,  raised  as 
great  a  tumult  of  welcome,  as  two  mortals  so  small  were 
capable  of  making,  and  then  the  father  and  mother  came 
to  welcome  them. 

When  Robert  went  to  milk  the  cow  after  supper,  at- 
tended as  usual  by  Faith  and  the  cat,  the  little  sister  con- 
fided to  him  : 

"  I  have  had  a  nice  time,  too  ;  mother  has  been  telling 
me  such  beaut'ful  stories  about  when  she  was  a  little 
girl. 

"  Oh,  dear !"  sighed  she,  "  I  wish  I  had  come  out  of 
Heaven  sooner,  so  I  could  have  played  with  her." 

Mrs.  Cameron  cheerily  helped  her  childi*en  to  turn 
from  the  Better,  which  could  not  be  had,  to  the  Good, 
which  could  be  had — a  training  in  the  gracious  art  of 
making  the  best  of  things,  which  was  to  stand  them  in 
good  stead  through  the  trials  of  after  days. 


IV. 

THE    LIGHTING   OF    A   LIFE-LOXG   FIEE. 

TK  tlie  night  came  the  frost  and  the  wind,  and  the  leaves 
-*-  which  had  gloried  all  daj  in  their  ripe  splendors  of 
garnet  and  gold,  fled,  pale  and  colorless,  under  the  glit- 
tering October  stars.  They  whirled  around  corners,  tliej 
dashed  np  at  windows,  they  flew  along  the  street,  they 
hid  under  walls,  they  huddled  into  hollows,  till  the  wild 
wind  sought  them  out,  caught  them  up  and  hurled  them 
aloft. 

When  the  clear,  bright  morning  came,  the  wind  had 
gone  whither  it  listed,  the  leaves  had  nestled  down 
upon  the  earth,  content  at  last  to  give  themselves  up  to 
her  and  be  wrought  over,  through  the  slow  Winter,  into 
new  forms  of  beauty.  And  now  the  trees  held  up  the 
varied  symmetry  of  their-  beautiful  proportions  in  naked 
grace  against  the  cloudless  sky. 

There  is  a  rare,  fine  pleasure  in  that  delicious  stillness 
which  hushes  a  New  England  village  in  the  Sabbath 
morning,  as  if  it  were  listening  for  the  voice  of  God. 

But  the  charm  of  deep  tranquility  is  much  stronger 
for  the  world-worn  and  weary  than  for  young  creatures 
thrilling  with  more  life  than  they  know  what  to  do  with  ; 
so  it  was  no  bad  thing  for  the  Cameron  flock  of  boys  and 
girls  that  there  were  the  horse,  and  cow,  and  pigs,  and 
hens,  and  cat  to  be  fed — the  breakfast  to  be  prepared  and 
cleared  away,  and  the  house  to  be  put  in  order,  even  on 
Sunday  mornmg.     Yet  these  things  were  done  with  a 

(39) 


40  THEODORA  :    A   ROME   STORY. 

difference  ;  different  tunes  were  sung  or  whistled,  differ- 
ent subjects  were  talked  about — everything  was  quieter 
— and  this  morning  the  peace  was  deeper  than  usual,  for 
the  event  of  the  afternoon  was  present  in  all  thoughts — 
the  Sacrament  and  Donald's  confession  of  Christ. 

Donald  was  only  thii*teen.  Is  not  "  a  boy's  will,  the 
wind's  will  "  ?  Was  it  safe,  or  right,  for  him  so  early  to 
bind  his  whole  future  life  in  this  solemn,  public  manner  ? 
Kobert  had  done  the  same  thing  yet  younger,  he  and 
Miriam  together.  And  many  had  gone  away  from  the 
service  wondering  how  Mr.  Cameron  could  let  those 
babies  take  such  a  step. 

If  eternal  hate  could  be  so  pledged  by  a  boy  nine  years 
old  as  to  animate  all  the  training  of  his  youth,  carry  him 
with  a  great  army  over  unattempted  mountains,  make  his 
name  a  terror  to  the  proudest  nations  of  earth,  nerve  his 
heart  in  exile,  and  give  a  bitter  sweet  to  the  poison  where- 
in he  drank  death,  why  may  not  a  child  lay  his  future  on 
the  Altar  of  Love  and  consecrate  his  life  in  heroic  devo- 
tion to  the  King  of  kings  ? 

But  Ilamilear  did  not  bring  his  son  to  the  shrine  of  his 
gods  and  then  turn  him  loose  to  enervating  pleasures  or 
minor  ambitions.  He  bred  the  boy  in  the  camp,  inured 
him  to  hardship,  kindled  to  achievement,  disciplined  him 
in  all  which  it  behooved  a  great  futm-e  general  to  know 
or  do. 

Mr.  Cameron  meant  to  rear  his  son  in  an  atmosphere 
of  love,  teaching  him,  day  by  day,  how  to  put  on  the 
whole  armor  of  God.  Therefore  he  did  not  fear  to  let 
him  pledge  his  fealty  in  the  undamped  ardor  of  his  boy- 
hood. 

Donald  had  one  companion  as  he  stood  near  the  Com- 
munion Table  that  day.     A  man  of  iifty,  who  had  come 


THE   LianTING    OF    A    LIFE-LONG    FLBE.  41 

up  from  something  like  the  agonies  of  death  from  de- 
llrluin  ireinens  to  newness  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus. 
Through  many  a  hard  struggle,  he  had  got  upon  his  feet, 
and  had  walked  soberly  and  righteously  until  it  was 
thought  proper  to  admit  him  to  the  household  of  faith. 
They  stood  together, — the  one  scarred  with  many  stripes 
from  his  long,  hard  slavery ;  the  other  revolting  from  it 
at  the  outset — stood  to  enlist  under  that  Master  whose 
service  is  freedom. 

"  You  believe — "  the  Creed  went  on.  It  was  a  resume 
of  the  Assembly's  Catechism.  What  did  they  know  about 
it — either  the  illiterate  man  or  the  boy  ?  Was  it  anything 
but  mockery  for  them  to  be  giving  assent  to  doctrines 
which  the  great  theologians  have  disputed  over  for  ages  ? 
.Those  great  truths  which  meet  the  hunger  and  thirst 
of  the  heart  are  perhaps  as  nearly  comprehended  by  the 
child  as  the  philosopher. 

For  the  rest,  Donald  was  ready  to  join  battle  on  every 
dogma  of  his  Church  with  all  a  boy's  hot  partizanship. 
For  a  jS^ew  England  minister's  family  early  listen  to  de- 
bates on 

"Providence,  foreknowledge,  will  and  fate, 
Fixed  fate,  free-will,  foreknowledge  absolute," 

with  the  same  keen  interest  as  a  politician's  children  to 
discussions  of  protection  and  free  trade. 

But  the  reading  of  the  long  "Articles  of  Faith"  is 
ended;  the  solemn  baptismal  service  is  over,  and  the 
earnest,  stalwart  man,  and  the  hopeful,  ardent  boy,  stand 
at  the  same  altar,  the  latter  in  fulfilment  of  vows  and 
prayers  made  in  his  behalf  years  ago.  A  hush  of  awe 
falls  upon  little  Theodora's  heart  as  her  father  begins  to 
read  the  Covenant,  and  all  the  chm-ch  rise  up  around  the 
new  eonununicants. 


42  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STORY. 

"  [n  the  presence  of  God,  cvujels  and  men,  you  noio 
a/vouch  the  Lord  Jehovah  to  he  your  God — "  ;  the  quaint 
and  solemn  words,  so  reverently  spoken,  seemed  to  set  a 
sacred  seal  on  Donald.  She  wondered  if  he  would  be  a 
different  boj,  to-morrow.  After  the  vows,  Mr.  Cameron 
gave  the  right  hand  of  fellowship,  iirst  to  Mr.  Graves, 
saying  with  cordial  looks  and  tones,  "  The  Lord  keep 
jour  feet  from  falling,  your  eyes  from  tears,  and  your 
soul  from  death."  Then  he  took  Donald's  hand  in  his, 
and  the  father's  voice  trembled  as  he  i-epeated :  "  The 
very  God  of  peace  sanctify  you  wholly !  And  I  pray 
God  your  whole  spirit  and  soul  and  body  be  presei'ved 
blameless  unto  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

As  her  brother  came  back  and  sat  down  beside  her, 
when  he,  as  well  as  her  father  and  mother,  Robert  and 
Miriam,  took  of  the  mystic  bread  and  wine  forbidden  to 
her,  Theodora  felt  a  lonesome  sense  of  outer  darkness  set- 
tling down  upon  her.  AVhat  if  they  all  should  be  in  heav- 
en at  last  and  she  left  out !  She  walked  silently  home 
from  the  service,  with  Faith's  hand  in  hers.  Even  that 
little  hand  touched  her  conscience.  She  was  the  only  one 
for  the  yoimger  sister  to  look  up  to,  who  would  not  lead 
her  right.  She  always  expected  to  be  a  Cliristian  some- 
time, but  she  did  not  like  to  think  the  time  had  come. 
What  great  difference  could  it  make  to  this  little  girl, 
saturated  with  Christian  ideas,  trained  all  her  life  to  obey 
Christian  precepts,  led  by  the  example  of  all  she  loved 
best,  how  could  she  help  being  a  Christian — how  could 
she  know  that  she  was  not  ? 

She  could  see  the  difference  between  a  child  that 
nestles  lovingly  in  the  Saviom-'s  ai-ms,  and  one  who  only 
stays  because  it  is  put  there  and  held. 

Theodora  had  a  pleasant  little  habit  of  going  to  take 


THE    LIGHTING    OF    A    LIFE-LONG    FIKE.  43 

her  mother's  things  on  coming  home  from  church,  and 
this  time,  as  the  hat  and  shawl  were  laid  in  her  hands,  the 
ejes  that  rested  on  her  were  so  full  of  yearning  desire,  the 
lips  which  said  "  Thank  you,  dear,"  looked  so  tender  with 
anxious  love,  that  the  little  girl  felt  that  the  day  and  hour 
must  be  near.  When  the  mother  went  into  her  own  bed- 
room and  locked  the  door,  Theodora  was  certain  that  she 
had  gone  to  pray  for  her.  She  sat  down  on  the  doorstep 
with  her  Sunday-school  book  in  her  hand,  absently  watch- 
ing the  chickens  in  the  yard,  and  wondering  if  God 
would  really  hear  those  prayers,  and  convert  her  at  once. 

"  My  daughter,  should  you  like  to  go  up  to  Pine  Hills 
with  me,  to  third  meeting  ?  "  asked  her  father,  pausing  a 
moment,  behind  her,  on  his  way  to  the  study. 

"  Yes,  father,  thank  you,"  she  answered,  but  only  with 
half  her  heart.  It  was  a  delightful  ride  up  to  Pine 
Hills,  and  the  children  were  all  fond  of  going  with  their 
father  on  these  Sunday  excursions  to  the  outskirts  of  the 
town.  But  this  time,  Theodora  half  dreaded  it ;  she  was 
sure  her  father  would  talk  with  her  about  being  a  Chris- 
tian, and  what  could  she  say  ?  She  would  rather  have 
given  up  the  ride  than  risk  the  talk.  Yet  mixed  with 
all  this  shrinking  was  a  feeling  that  she  would  give  the 
world  if  the  change  were  really  wrought,  and  she  had 
nothing  to  dread  in  the  thought  of  death,  or  of  God,  or 
duty.  That  feeling  grew  upon  her  as  she  rode  up  the 
long  hills  between  peaceful  fields  or  softly-sighing  pines, 
beside  her  father,  absorbed  in  silent  preparation  for  his 
service ;  but  when  they  arrived  at  the  little  brown 
school-house,  which  stood  bracing  itself  against  a  el  iff 
under  the  trees,  she  quite  forgot  it.  She  was  pleased  to 
find  herself  treated  with  a  little  distinction  as  the  minis- 
ter's daughter,  and  was  quite  set  up  to  see  that  the  queerly- 


44  THEODOEA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

rigged  little  girl  next  her  looked  upon  her  with  the  same 
admiring  giize  which  she  herself  turned  upon  the  stylish 
clothes  of  little  Belle  Carpenter  when  she  came  up  from 
Boston.  As  the  citj  is  to  the  village,  so  is  the  village  to 
the  "  backwoods."  She  was  interested  in  everything ;  the 
rough,  hacked  benches,  the  huge,  rusty  stove,  with  a  broken 

jug  of  asparagus  and  golden-rod  upon  it,  the  tinkle  of  a 
cow-bell  just  outside  the  open  door,  the  odd  cap  and  bon- 
net of  a  grandmother  who  "  hadn't  been  inside  ameetin'- 
'ouse  for  fifteen  year,  come  January,"  the  baby  in  the 
arms  of  a  sweet-faced  woman  in  a  sunbonnet,  the  hand- 
some brown  face  and  swaggering  gait  of  a  young  fellow 

just  getting  acclimated  to  his  "  freedom  coat."  As  her 
father  observed  her  eager  eyes  noting  everything,  he  be- 
gan to  fear  that  curiosity  would  scatter  whatever  thought- 
fulness  the  day  had  wakened.  Perhaps  this  fear  deepened 
his  earnestness  of  speaking.  However  that  might  be, 
there  were  before  him  two  or  three  families  who  never 
attended  puljlic  worship,  and  he  could  not  but  set  the 
Good  Xews  before  them,  and  m-ge  it  upon  them,  as  if 
this  were  his  only  opportunity. 

As  he  went  on,  pleading  with  them  from  the  words, 
"  Behold  I  set  before  you  this  day  life  and  death,  blessing 
and  cursing,  wherefore  choose  life,"  Theodora  felt  with 
him  keenly.  She  knew  how  anxious  he  was  for  some  of 
those  men  who  sat  leaning  their  shirt-sleeved  elbows  on 
the  desks  before  them,  gazing  out  at  the  open  door  with 
serious  eyes  as  they  listened.  She  did  hope  they  would 
be  persuaded.  Then  the  thought  turned  back  upon  her- 
self. The  solemn  tones,  the  searching  eyes  of  her  father, 
carried  his  words  into  her  very  soul.  Step  by  step,  she 
felt  her  reluctance  giving  way.  She  almost  trembled  as 
she  saw  he  was  coming  to  a  close,  for  she  felt—  "  K  he 


THE    LIGHTING    OF    A    LIFE-LONG   FIRE.  45 

only  keeps  on  a  little  longer,  I  shall  surely  do  it " — and 
she  wished  it  might  be  so.  Which  is  self — that  within 
us  which  is  almost  persuaded,  or  that  which  looks  on 
hoping  or  fearing  we  shall  yield  to  persuasion  'i  With 
one  more  urgent  call  to  instant  repentance,  the  sermon 
ended,  and  Theodora  felt,  with  a  strange  mixture  of  re- 
gret and  relief,  that  it  had  not  quite  turned  the  scale  of 
her  choice.  An  impressive  hymn  was  read,  which  made 
her  feel  afresh  that  it  was  cruel  ingratitude  to  keep  away 
from  the  dying  Saviour ;  but  when  the  singing  was  at- 
tempted— one  had  "  forgot  his  specs,"  another  was  "  all 
hoarsed  up  with  a  cold,"  another  tried  to  start  the  tune, 
but  dived  with  it  to  depths  where  no  one  dared  follow 
him;  then  one  of  the  sisters  attempted  to  pitch  it,  and 
soared  aloft  where  not  another  voice  would  venture,  arew 
frightened  herself  and  dropped  it.  Our  little  girl,  who 
was  sensitive  both  to  the  ridiculous  and  to  music,  had  hard 
work  to  suppress  a  laugh.  Her  father  saw  it,  and  groaned 
in  spirit,  thinking  it  had  been  worse  than  vain  to  bring 
her  to  the  meeting.  But  he  was  mistaken.  We  are  too 
apt  to  think  children  trifling  because  they  notice  every- 
thing and  feel  its  influence.  The  little  birch  leaves  that 
twinlde  in  every  breeze  are  just  as  flrmly  fastened  to  the 
tree  as  the  heavy  chestnut  foliage  that  sways  only  in 
masses,  before  a  strong  wind.  The  thousand  things  to 
be  learned  in  the  first  years  of  life  would  never  find 
their  way  into  the  mind  if  it  were  not  sensitive  as  a  pho- 
tographic plate  to  every  object.  It  is  only  natural,  not 
alarming,  that  they  should  lack  persistent  unity  of  feel- 
ing. 

Theodora  saw  her  father's  despairing  glance,  and  when 
they  had  started  for  home,  and  he  said  to  her  tenderly, 
"  Oh,  my  child,  I  wish  you  might  be  persuaded  to  choose 


46  THEODORA  !    A    HOME    STORY. 

life  and  blessing !  "  she  knew  he  had  little  idea  how  near 
to  it  she  had  come.  She  was  sorrj  to  have  him  troubled 
about  her  ;  she  wished  he  knew  that  she  did  feel  what  he 
said ;  still  she  did  not  say  the  word  that  would  have 
cheered  him,  and  showed,  him  how  to  help  her.  She 
simply  said  nothing,  and  let  him  suppose  she  thought 
nothing.  She  felt  guilty  for  the  look  of  sorrow  in  his 
face,  and  turned  away.  Just  as  she  did  so,  a  cm've  in  the 
road  brought  them  in  view  of  the  broad  scene  below 
them. 

"  Oh,  look  father,  only  look  at  Cloudcatcher !  *'  she 
cried. 

Cloudcatcher  was  acknowledged  king  among  the  hills 
for  twenty  miles  around.  Like  a  true  chief,  he  was  first 
to  brave  the  rigors  that  befel  his  clan,  and  while  only 
frost  had  fallen  on  all  his  wide  domain,  he  had  received 
the  first  snow  of  Autumn  on  his  ample  shoulders.  All 
day  he  had  worn  it,  glistening  and  white,  looking  cold, 
and  proud,  and  inaccessible ;  but  now  the  setting  sun  had 
left  all  the  smiling  valley  dull  and  chill,  touching  only  the 
highest  hill-tops  with  a  glance,  to  pour  a  flood  of  glory 
over  this  princely  mountain.  In  that  shining  it  looked  as 
ethereal  as  a  poet's  dream.  Soft  tints  of  rose  on  its 
summit  shaded  down  to  deepest  purple  among  the  dense 
woods  which  begirt  its  base. 

Her  father's  voice  was  full  of  poetic  fervor  as  he  re- 
peated : 

"  '  I  will  lift  up  mine  eyes  unto  the  hills  whence  cometh 
my  help ;  my  help  cometh  from  the  Lord  which  made 
heaven  and  earth.'  'As  the  mountains  are  round  about 
Jenisalem,  so  the  Lord  is  round  about  His  people,  from 
henceforth,  even  forevennore.'  " 

In  some  dim  yet  luminous  way,  the  old  mountain  she 


THE   LIGHTING   OF   A   LIFE-LONG   FIRE.  47 

loved  SO  much  was  like  a  revelation  to  the  child.  She 
watched  it  till  the  last  ray  of  sunshine  faded  from  snowy 
crag  and  darkened  forest,  and  the  giant  mass  stood  in 
sombre  majesty  against  the  dusky  sky.  It  was  as  if  both 
the  might  of  the  great  and  terrible  God  and  the  gentle- 
ness of  His  protecting  love  had  appeared  before  her. 

It  was  in  a  thoughtful,  tender  mood  that  she  reached 
home,  and  as  she  knelt  for  her  nightly  prayer,  she  did 
try  more  sincerely  than  ever  before,  in  her  short  life,  to 
yield  lierseK  to  her  Saviour. 

Theodora  woke,  Monday  morning,  with  a  sense  that 
something  had  happened — something  good — and  lay  for 
a  moment,  feeling  her  way  back  to  consciousness,  before 
she  could  think  what  it  was.  When  she  remembered  the 
thoughts  with  which  she  went  to  sleep,  she  wondered  if 
it  could  be  she  was  "  converted."  She  watched  herself 
with  a  serious  kind  of  curiosity.  She  had  often  heard  of 
astounding  changes,  like  that  in  Saul  of  Tarsus,  and  she 
did  not  know  but  an  earthquake  of  emotion,  in  which  the 
old  life  should  be  shaken  to  pieces  and  a  new  life  brought 
in,  was  just  as  likely  to  come  to  her  as  anyone.  She 
almost  hoped  she  should  find  herself  so  good  and  so 
happy,  she  should  hardly  know  herself.  She  felt  so 
peaceful  and  bright  while  she  was  dressing,  that  she 
thought  perhaps  the  dreaded  crisis  was  over,  and  she  was 
a  Christian. 

In  the  spirit  of  conscientious  seK-denial,  she  put  on  a 
laded  calico,  because  she  knew  her  mother  was  anxious 
to  have  her  careful  of  her  new  worsted  dress.  But  her 
mother,  preoccupied  with  her  crowding  Monday's  work, 
did  not  seem  to  notice  how  faithfully  she  was  trying  to 
help,  nor  what  she  had  on,  until  school-time,  when  she 
said,  with  a  hurried  glance  : 


48  THEODOKA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

"  You  will  need  to  put  on  a  liigh-necked  apron,  since 
you  have  on  that  thin  dress." 

"  Oh,  mother ! "  expostulated  the  little  girl,  who  de- 
tested a  high-neeked  apron. 

"  Yes,  dear ;  the  air  is  sharp  this  morning,  and  those 
sleeves  are  worn  and  thin  ;  sitting  so  in  the  chilly  school-i 
room,  after  exercising  in  this  warm  kitchen,  isn't 
safe" — 

"  But  I  can  keep  on  my  sack." 

"  That  is  too  warm.  Put  on  yom*  apron,  and  be  quick, 
or  you  will  be  tardy." 

Theodora  sauntered  disconsolately  along  to  school,  with 
her  hat  tipped  down  over  her  eyes.  At  recess,  however, 
as  the  most  Chnstian  act  she  could  think  of,  she  forced 
herself  to  go  and  invite  CeUa  Jones,  whom  all  the  girls 
disliked,  to  come  and  play  ball  with  her.  She  was 
chagi-iiied  enough  to  have  the  tables  of  jjatronage  turned 
on  her  by  the  reply  : 

"  Oh,  no  ;  I  haven't  time.  Can't  you  get  some  of  your 
little  mates  to  play  with  you  ?  " 

Little  mates  !  Wasn't  she  in  her  eleventh  year  ?  And 
Celia  Jones  was  barely  thirteen.  Little  mates !  As  if 
there  were  not  always  nice  girls  enough,  and  large  girls, 
too,  that  were  ready  to  play  with  her  !  Did  the  ereatm-e 
suppose  she  invited  her  because  she  wanted  her  ? 

"What  is  more  exasperating  than  to  have  a  person  sup- 
pose you  are  asking  a  favor  of  him,  when  you  are  trying 
to  offer  one  ! 

"  Since  you  have  so  many  friends,  and  so  much  older 
friends,"  she  retorted,  "  it's  just  possible  I  may  find  some 
small  child  willing  to  play  with  me." 

She  drew  up  her  plump  figure  with  a  dignity  that 
made  her  high-necked  apron  appear  haK-an-inch  shorter, 


THE    LIGHTING    OF   A   LIFE-LONG    FIRE.  49 

and  walked  off,  in  anything  but  a  Christian  frame  of 
mind.  She  dashed  into  a  group  of  girls,  and  talked  and 
laughed  louder  than  any  of  them,  just  to  show  Celia 
Jones  that  she  was  quite  the  centre  of  mirth.  She  was 
thrilled  with  delight  when  Miss  Hattie  Curtis,  one  of  the 
real  young  ladies,  put  her  arm  around  her  and  walked 
all  the  way  to  her  desk,  talking  to  her  and  petting  her. 
How  would  Celia  Jones  feel  now  ! 

Trying  to  forget  all  this,  and  win  back  right  feeling, 
she  set  herself  to  studying  with  all  her  might,  and  came 
out  of  school  flattering  herself  she  had  made  an  uncom- 
monly fine  recitation  in  history. 

Her  self-complacency  was  suddenly  dashed  at  the  din- 
ner-table, by  Robert  giving  her  a  terrible  teasing  for 
making  a  ridiculous  blunder  when  she  thought  she  was 
doing  so  well — all  the  more  ridiculous,  because  she  had 
given  it  with  such  a  satisfied  air.  She  recollected  notic- 
ing an  odd  little  smile  under  Mr.  Duncan's  moustache, 
which  she  supposed  at  the  time  expressed  his  amazement 
and  pleasure  that  she  remembered  so  much. 

"  Why  didn't  he  correct  me  ?"  she  exclaimed  hotly — it 
is  such  a  relief  to  find  some  one  else  to  blame  when  we 
are  vexed  with  ourselves. 

"  Probably  he  was  afraid  he  should  laugh,"  answered 
Robert. 

"  What  makes  your  face  so  red  ?"  asked  Faith  inno- 
cently. 

"  Nothing ;  it  isn't  red.  Do  eat  your  dinner,  and  not 
stare  at  me." 

"  Gently,  my  daughter,  gently  !"  said  her  mother,  look- 
ing at  her  in  surprise,  for  she  seldom  spoke  so  rudely. 

"  Theodora  has  disgraced  the  family,"  explained  Rob- 
ert, confidentially,  to  Faith. 
3 


50  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STORY. 

"  Did  she  get  whipped  ?"  asked  the  child,  her  black 
ejes  snapping,  as  she  laid  down  her  knife  and  fork. 

"  Well,  no,  I  believe  not ;  did  you,  Theodora  ?" 

Would  he  never  be  done  talking  about  it  ?  she  made 
a  thrust  in  self-defence. 

"  I  am  not  the  only  one  in  the  family  that  makes  blun- 
ders. Didn't  I  hear  Mr.  Dunmore  telling  somebody  a 
little  more  study  wouldn't  be  wasted  on  the  Yirgil  lesson, 
this  morning  ?" 

The  moment  she  had  turned  all  eyes  on  Eobert  and 
gained  her  revenge,  she  regretted  it — the  Latin  was  such 
a  sensitive  spot  with  him !  She  was  thoroughly  out  of 
conceit  with  herself,  and  inwardly  groaned. 

"  Oh,  dear !  I  believe  I  am  worse  than  ever  !" 

By  a  strong  effort  she  got  back  her  good  temper,  and 
started  for  the  afternoon's  campaign.  Miss  Cm'tis  was 
coming  out  of  her  gate  as  she  passed,  looking  dainty 
as  a  moiTiiug  glory,  and  walked  on  with  her.  This  queen 
of  her  admiration  deigned  to  say  she  really  envied  her 
such  a  head  of  beautiful  brown  hair,  and  inquii-ed  if  she 
wasn't  the  youngest  girl  in  her  class,  in  a  tone  which  im- 
plied that  she  must  be  quite  a  wonder  of  intellect.  Will. 
Train,  one  of  Miss  Cmtis's  beaux,  joined  them  directly, 
and  our  little  girl,  not  understanding  that  the  village 
beauty  had  picked  her  up  as  a  convenient  thu'd  party, 
went  into  school  quite  reinstated  in  her  own  good 
opinion. 

At  night,  as  Theodora  thought  the  day  all  over,  she 
nearly  concluded  that  she  must  have  been  mistaken  ;  she 
had  no  "  new  heart."  The  old  faults  were  just  as  bad  as 
ever.  Perhaps  they  looked  more  hateful  to  her,  but  she 
hardly  noticed  that  fact.  She  did  pray  earnestly  and  re- 
solve with  a  new  morning  to  take  up  her  Cross  and  fol- 


THE    LIGHTING   OF    A    LIFE-LONG    FIRE.  51 

low  Christ.  So  it  went  on  ;  every  day  an  experiment, 
till  at  the  end  of  the  week,  she  said  to  herself  positively : 

"  I  am  the  same  old  sixpence  !"  and  resigned  hei-self 
to  the  fact,  not  without  disappointment. 

Yet  she  was  not  quite  the  same.  It  is  often  said  that 
every  call  to  duty,  distinctly  heard  and  not  obeyed,  leaves 
the  heart  harder  than  before.  It  is  not  always  so.  "Wave 
after  wave  lifts  the  waif  higher  on  the  strand,  until  one 
at  last  bears  it,  safe,  upon  the  rock — and  the  first  helped 
it  as  much  as  the  last.  This  child  had  not  yet  thrown 
her  heart  wide  open  to  the  Saviour,  but  she  heard  His 
voice  more  plainly,  and  she  felt  her  need  of  Him  more 
deeply. 

One  night,  some  weeks  later,  in  the  mother's  absence, 
Theodora  was  putting  Jessie  to  bed.  The  little  thing 
had  had  a  great  frolic  in  her  long  white  night-gown,  and 
now  was  kneeling  by  her  sister's  lap  with  the  little  pink 
soles  of  her  feet  turned  up,  to  "  say  her  prayers." 

"  '  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  s'eep, 

I  pray  de  Lord  my  soul  to  keep ' — 

"  Don'  wan'  to  say  an'  more  !"  she  said,  springing  up, 
shaking  her  fair  curly  head,  and  knitting  her  white  fore- 
head in  a  frown. 

"  Oh,  yes,  say  it  all ;  that's  a  good  Baby ;  you  know  it 
all." 

"  If  I  should  die—" 

"ISTo,  no!"  answered  Baby,  still  shaking  her  head,  and 
putting  her  hands  behind  her  as  if  to  hold  back  the 
prayer.     "  Baby  don'  wan'  to  die  afore  I  wake." 

"No,  darling,"  said  Theodora,  reaching  out  to  take 
her  ;  but  Baby  feared  that  meant  compromise,  and  step- 


52  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STORY. 

ped  back,  only  allowing  lier  to  get  hold  of  her  night- 
gown, Avliich  made  a  little  festoon  between  them,  and 
showed  the  stubborn,  dimpled  knees  of  the  reluctant  sup- 
pliant. Theodora  did  not  know  what  to  do.  It  was 
contrary  to  all  the  habits  and  traditions  of  the  family  to 
give  up  to  a  rebellious  child  ;  still  she  did  not  want  to 
have  a  struggle  with  little  Jessie  about  her  prayer.  The 
older  children  never  used  authority  over  the  younger 
when  the  parents  w^ere  at  home;  but  now  they  were 
away.    Faith  was  put  in  Miriam's  care,  and  Jessie  in  hers. 

With  a  sudden  thought,  she  asked,  '•  Baby  want  to 
jump  ?" 

Jessie  was  a  springy  little  creature,  always  eager  for 
that  pleasure ;  so  Theodoi'a  placed  her  on  the  bureau  and 
let  her  spring  into  her  arms,  but  just  as  she  was  on  the 
wing  for  the  fourth  time,  made  a  feint  of  not  catching 
her.  A  sudden  fear  darted  into  Jessie's  eyes,  but  she 
found  herself  caught  as  before,  and  her  soft  neck  cov- 
ered with  kisses. 

"  Baby  mos'  fall !  "  she  said,  looking  up  half-bewildered. 

"  If  Baby  was  going  to  fall,  sister  would  catch  her ; 
and  if  Baby  was  going  to  die,  the  dear  Lord  would  save 
her,  and  He  would  take  her  in  His  arms,  and  He'd  love 
her,  and  He  would  cany  her  to  such  a  pretty,  pretty 
place  where  there's  bright  light  and  sweet  music,  and 
lots  of  dear  little  babies,  and  everybody  would  be  just  as 
good  and  love  Baby  so !  "  emphasizing  with  a  hug  and  a 
kiss  ;  "  and  Jesus  would  take  just  the  nicest  care  of  her ; 
and  if  He  dichiH  save  her  soul  it  might  get  lost,  way,  way 
off  in  the  dark." 

"  Like  poor  Kitty  in  de  ground  ? "  asked  Jessie,  who 
listened  in  a  dazed  yet  earnest  way. 

"  That's  what  makes  her  afraid  of  her  prayer !  "  thought 


THE   LIGHTESTG    OF    A    LIFE-LONG    FIRE.  53 

Theodora.  A  pet  kitten  had  died  the  day  before  and 
been  buried  in  the  garden  with  sad  obsequies,  Jessie  being 
chief  mourner.  "  Yes,  something  like  poor  Kitty,''  she 
said,  in  despair  of  explaining  any  better.  "  Wouldn't 
Jessie  rather  be  carried  to  that  bright,  beautiful  place  in 
the  dear  Lord's  arms  ? " 

"  Wouldn't  He  let  me  fall  ? " 

"  Oh,  never !  Let's  say  the  little  prayer,  so  He  will 
take  care  of  Baby  and  Theo.  too :  let's  say  it  together  : 

"  '  If  I  should  die  before  I  wake, 
I  pray  tbe  Lord  my  soul  to  take.'  " 

The  little  one  repeated  it  with  her,  under  her  breath, 
as  if  not  sure  whether  she  wished  to  say  it  or  not.  Then 
Theodora  tossed  her  into  her  crib  and  sang  to  her  till  she 
was  asleep,  and  the  twilight  had  darkened  into  evening. 

She  sat  down  by  the  window  and  watched  the  stars 
come  out  till  all  "the  majestical  roof  was  fretted  with 
golden  fire." 

"HI  should  die  before  I  wake,"  kept  ringing  through 
her  mind.  How  dared  she  lie  down  to  sleep  !  What  if 
she  should  wake  in  the  outer  darkness,  hopeless  forever ! 
She  wished  she  were  a  baby,  like  Jessie,  to  be  saved 
without  any  effort  of  her  own.  She  wished  she  lived  in 
the  millenium  when  everybody  would  be  good,  as  a  matter 
of  course.  She  almost  blamed  God  that  He  had  not  con- 
verted her  for  all  the  prayers  and  efforts.  Of  what  use 
was  it  to  try  again  ?  She  recalled  the  promise  she  had  so 
often  heard  her  father  rejseat,  "  Him  that  cometh  to  Me 
I  will  in  no  wise  east  out."  Had  she  not  come  to  Him, 
and  had  He  not  cast  her  out  ?  Still  the  stars  fixed  on  her 
their  bright,  solemn  gaze,  and  awed  to  silence  her 
complaint  of  their  Creator.     Depth  beyond  depth  seemed 


54:  niEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOKY. 

to  open  among  them,  and  her  young  spirit  bowed  down 
abashed,  before  its  ^laker,  the  Maker  of  all  those  glitter- 
ing worlds.     lie  must  be  right  somehow. 

"  If  should  die  before  '  I  wake,'  should  I  dare  to  meet 
Him  ?  "  The  picture  of  a  loving  Saviour,  which  she  had 
drawn  for  her  little  sister,  came  back  to  her,  "  Would 
He  take  me,  like  that ?  Oh,  dear!  He  knows  I  haven't 
really  wanted  to  give  myself  all  up  to  Him  ! " 

A  sense  of  shame  and  sorrow  for  being  so  far  away 
from  God  that  it  should  be  hard  to  love  and  obey  Him, 
stole  into  her  heart — a  longing  to  be  at  one  with  the  dear 
Lord,  of  whose  kindness  she  had  been  telling.  Then  she 
was  ashamed  to  find  her  heart  shrinking  back  with 
the  thought,  "  H  I  was  a  Christian,  I  should  have  to  go  to 
the  Chm'ch-meeting,  and  be  '  examined,'  and  then  join 
the  Church  before  all  the  people  ! "  She  turned  upon 
herself  severely  with  the  sentence,  "H  I  am  to  be  a 
Christian,  I'll  do  what  Christ  wants  me  to,  no  matter 
what  it  is." 

"  Oh,  God !  "  her  heart  ciied  out,  "  I  don't  know  how 
to  feel  or  act  right,  but  for  Christ's  sake  take  me  just  as  I 
am  and  make  me  over.     Forgive  me  and  save  me ! 

"  *If  I  should  die  before  I  wake, 
I  pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  take.' " 

She  repeated  it  slowly,  thinking  whether  she  would  be 
happy  to  be  so  near  Him — feeling  that  she  could — and 
then  she  added,  "  And  if  I  should  live  a  hundred  years,  I 
pray  the  Lord  my  soul  to  keep." 

Perhaps  the  Saviour  saw  through  that  yearning  young 
face  tm'ned  upward  to  the  stars,  just  that  sense  of  weakness 
and  need  which  lay  hold  on  His  infinite  strength.  As 
she  went  into  the  duties  of  the  next  days,  it  was  not 


THE   LIGHTING   OF    A    LIFE-LONG   FIKE.  55 

SO  mucli  watching  to  see  if  anything  had  happened  to  her, 
as  with  a  steady  desire  to  follow  Christ,  a  constant  looking 
to  Him  for  strength. 

Sometimes  when  Christ  comes  to  dwell  in  a  human 
heart,  He  overturns  the  tables  of  the  money-changers  and 
drives  out,  with  a  whip  of  small  cords,  those  who  are 
making  His  Father's  house  a  house  of  merchandise.  All 
the  world  can  see  that  old  things  have  passed  away  and  all 
things  have  become  new ;  a  new  Master  has  come ;  but 
sometimes,  especially  when  He  is  welcomed  into  the 
heart  of  a  child.  His  presence  is  betrayed  only  as  when 
we  notice  that  some  house  we  pass,  in  our  daily  rounds, 
shows  a  more  hospitable  door  at  morning,  a  brighter  light 
through  the  curtained  windows  at  evening,  sweeter 
flowers  in  the  garden,  and  we  say, "  There  must  be  a  new 
tenant  in  that  house." 

So  the  day  dawned,  and  the  Day-star  arose  in  Theo- 
dora's heart. 


V. 


THEEEGIELS. 

WHAT  is  that  ?  It  sounds  like  the  step  of  a  horse 
shod  with  velvet,  but  it  is  one  coming  along  the 
road  through  the  pines  yonder,  Svhere  the  needle-leaves 
lie  three  or  four  winters  deep.  You  judge  by  his  steady 
trot  that  he  is  drawing  a  carriage,  but  you  hear  no  sound 
of  wheels.  There  comes  a  sound,  however,  of  girls  laugh- 
ing and  talking.  Xow  you  can  see  the  horse's  head  at 
that  opening.  Hannibal  Cameron  ; — you  may  know  him 
by  his  alert,  pointed  ears  and  proud  neck.  There  are 
three  girls  in  the  buggy  ;  they  are  stopping  at  this  mossy 
old  watering-trough  under  the  great  elm,  so  that  we  shaU 
get  a  good  look  at  them  while  the  horse  is  drinking.  It 
must  be  six  or  seven  years  since  we  met  them  before, 
and  yet  there  is  enough  of  the  old  look  to  know  them  by. 
That  must  be  Faith  getting  out  to  let  down  the  check- 
rein.  The  ground  is  M^et  and  trampled  into  black  mud 
•in  front  of  the  trough ;  so  she  steps  along  one  of  the  shafts 
of  the  carriage,  resting  one  hand  on  the  horse's  buck,  till 
she  has  loosened  the  rein,  then  springs  off  on  to  the  end 
of  the  trough,  and  stands  catching  in  her  hand  the  bright 
water  that  runs  in  a  small  channel  of  bark  down  from  the 
spring.  She  still  enjoys  the  freedom  of  short  dresses, 
and  cannot  be  more  than  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  old. 
That  dark  little  face  can  never  be  pretty.  In  fact,  Faith 
has  settled  it  with  herself,  that  it  is  remarkably  homely, 
and  that  she  must  not  expect  people  to  like  her.  It 
(56) 


THREE   GIKLS.  57 

makes  her  slirink  from  meeting  strangers.  Her  looking- 
glass  tells  her  all  about  the  in-egular  features  and  swarthy 
complexion,  but  takes  no  account  of  the  sturdy  honesty 
and  keen  intelligence  which  her  friends  see  shining 
through  them. 

Miriam,  who  leans  back  in  the  corner  of  the  carriage, 
playing  lazily  with  the  whip,  is  fair  and  graceful  as  a 
calla  lily.  Her  hat  lies  in  her  lap,  and  the  Summer  heat 
just  ripples  the  edge  of  her  abundant  brown  hair,  full  of 
lurking  shades  of  auburn,  which  only  the  sunshine  can 
find  out.  Her  eyes  match  it  in  hue  so  exactly  that  if  you 
are  observant  of  colors,  you  are  fascinated  with  compar- 
ing them  ;  if  not,  you  feel  a  sense  of  harmony  without 
knowing  what  it  comes  from.  Beautiful  eyes,  without 
brows  and  lashes  to  correspond,  are  like  jewels  meanly 
set ;  but  these  have  no  such  disadvantage.  The  shadow 
of  the  thick,  curling  lashes  might  give  them  too  much 
softness  if  it  were  not  for  the  clear,  strong  line  of  the 
eyebrows  above.  A  cool  ivory  complexion  hannonizes 
deliciously  with  the  warm  brown  tints  of  hair  and  eyes. 
The  firmly  delicate  moulding  of  her  features  is  the  true 
expression  of  purity,  gentleness,  and  strength.  Her 
dress  of  soft  brown,  with  its  blue  throat-knot  and  linen 
collar  and  cuffs,  is  very  simple,  but  whatever  she  wears 
has  a  certain  grace  and  dainty  neatness  about  it  which 
makes  it  look,  as  her  sisters  say,  "  just  Hke  Miriam." 

As  for  Theodora,  she  has  one  of  those  not  uncommon 
faces  which  are,  at  some  times,  fairly  beautiful ;  at  others, 
almost  plain. 

Some  faces  are  good  for  models,  some  for  masks,  and 

some  for  transparencies.     Hers  was  of  the  last.     Instead 

of  dwelling  in  some  inner  chamber,  and  coming  to  look 

out  only  on  great  occasions,  as  many  souls  do,  her  very 

3* 


58  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STOKY. 

self  seems  to  animate  everv  drop  of  her  blood  and  glow 
in  every  particle  of  her  ticsh.  It  would  be  impossible  to 
love  her  and  not  to  love  her  face.  One  would  not  be 
likely  to  recall  anything  she. said  without  thinking  just 
how  she  looked  when  she  said  it.  Her  figure  is  of 
medium  height,  compact,  elastic,  healthful.  Iler  move- 
ments are  easy  and  free,  but  too  eager  and  energetic  to 
be  as  graceful  as  Miriam's. 

But  now  Hannibal  lifts  his  dripping  mouth  from  the 
water,  and  looks  around  for  Faith  to  put  up  the  check- 
rein.  She  has  barely  done  so,  when  he  starts  away  and 
leaves  her  the  picture  of  consternation,  balanced  between 
mud  and  water,  on  the  edge  of  the  trough. 

"  Whoa  !  you  ungrateful  creature.  Back  !  "  cried 
Theodora,  seizing  the  reins  and  bringing  him  to  position. 
"  In  with  you,  Faith  !     That's  it." 

"  But  you  have  taken  my  seat ! " 

"  Never  mind  ;  you  have  been  toasted  long  enough  for 
this  time,  my  nut-brown  Madge.     We  wnll  exchange." 

The  driver  sat  on  an  extra  stool  between  the  other  two, 
and  took  a  broadside  of  sunbeams,  from  which  the  others 
were  shielded  by  the  top  of  the  buggy. 

"  This  is  nice  ! "  exclaimed  Faith,  as  she  settled  herself 
in  her  corner. 

"  Oh,  for  some  boundless  contiguity  of  shade ! "  ex- 
claimed Theodora,  cocking  her  hat  to  the  sunward  side  of 
her  head  and  drawing  the  reins. 

Hannibal  started  at  a  good  pace.  He  liked  her  driving. 
She  did  not  altogether  forget  him  when  she  got  to  talk- 
ing, as  Faith  did,  but  kept  up  a  pleasant  understanding 
with  him  all  the  while,  urging  and  sparing  him  just  about 
as  he  thought  fair.  She  did  not  worry  him  with  nervous 
twitches  of  the  bit,  neither  did  she  make  him  walk  on 


THREE   GIRLS.  59 

the  side  of  the  road  for  a  dozen  rods  when  they  were 
about  to  meet  anybody,  as  Miriam  was  apt  to.  On  the 
whole,  he  approved  her  handling  of  the  lines,  though  he 
would  not  go  quite  as  fast  for  her  as  he  would  for 
Donald. 

"  Girls  !  "  exclaimed  Miriam,  "  do  you  know  it  was  just 
a  year  ago  to-day,  that  the  letter  came  proposing  I  should 
go  to  DoMTiington  ?  " 

"  Is  it  ?  I  didn't  remember  that,"  answered  Theodora ; 
"  but  I  never  shall  forget  how  deadly  pale  you  looked 
when  father  finished  reading  it,  and  said,  '  How  provi 
dential ! '  " 

"  Why  ?  "Wliat  made  her  so  pale  ?  What  made  father 
Bay  it  was  providential  ? "  asked  Faith,  eagerly.  "  Tell 
me  about  it.  One  gets  a  new  hght  on  many  family  affairs 
as  one  gi'ows  a  head  taller." 

"■  I  suppose  father  thought  it  was  providential  to  have 
a  way  opened  for  one  child  to  go  to  earning  just  as 
another  went  to  spending.  Donald  was  to  enter  college 
the  very  day  Miriam  was  invited  to  commence  teaching 
in  the  Downington  Institute.  As  to  why  she  grew  so 
pale,  she  must  answer  for  herself,"  said  Theodora,  look- 
ing around  at  the  older  sister,  with  a  smile. 

"  Oh,  how  my  spiiit  did  faint  within  me ! "  said  Miriam, 
rather  to  herself  than  to  them. 

"  But  why  ? "  urged  Faith,  who  was  never  satisfied 
without  definite  facts.      "  Didn't  you  want  to  go  ? " 

"  Want  to  !  " 

"  Why  not  ?  I  thought  it  was  a  fine  situation,  every- 
body said." 

"  1S.0  doubt ;  but  I  did  not  want  to  be  situated.  I  had 
studied  with  Donald,  in  everything,  up  to  that  point,  and 
been  just  as  successful  as  he ;  and  now  he  was  to  study 


60  THEODORA  I    A    HOME    STOEY. 

seven  years  longer — while  I,  who  knew  no  more,  and 
loved  to  learn  just  as  well,  was  to  go  to  teaching.  It  was 
bitter." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  father  would  have  urged  you,  wlien 
you  felt  like  that,"  said  Faith,  her  black  eyes  flashing. 
"  You  had  as  good  a  right  to  go  on  with  your  education 
as  Donald.     I  shouldn't  have  thouo-ht  father — " 

"  Don't  say  that,  Faith.  Father  never  knew  how  I  felt 
about  it.  It  was  of  no  use  to  trouble  him.  I  wanted  to 
do  what  would  help  him  most,  and  I  knew  it  would  be 
all  he  could  do  to  meet  Donald's  bills." 

"  But,  if  you  had  stuck  resolutely  to  your  plan,  as 
Robert  did  to  his,  don't  you  believe  you  could  have 
done  it  V 

"  AVhere  would  the  money  have  come  from  ? " 

"  The  same  place  it  would  have  done  for  Robert.  If 
you  had  told  father  just  what  you  longed  to  do,  and  how 
you  felt,  I  believe  he  would  have  tried  his  utmost  to  let 
you  have  the  best  advantages  there  are  for  girls." 

"  Yes ;  but  it  would  have  been  terribly  hard.  I  can 
take  care  of  myseK  now,  and  if  I  get  more  salary  as  I  go 
on,  I  hope  to  help  the  rest  of  you  girls." 

"You  mustn't  sacrifice  yourself  for  me,  dear,"  said 
Theodora. 

"  I  mean  to  make  my  own  way,  just  as  if  I  was  a  boy," 
Fa-ith  announced,  with  emphasis. 

"  There  are  not  so  very  many  boys  that  do  it." 

"  How  like  a  lamb  led  to  the  slaughter  you  did  look, 
that  morning  you  went  away ! "  exclaimed  Theodora, 
looking:  over  her  shoulder  at  Miriam.  "  It  hasn't  been 
so  very  bad  as  you  expected,  has  it  ?  " 

"  Every  bit.  Last  Winter,  I  used  to  be  waked  by  the 
factory  beUs  at  half-past  four  in  the  morning,  and  think 


THREE   GERLS.  61 

how  glad  I  should  be  to  go  down  there  and  work  for  my 
living,  rather  than  go  to  school." 

"  I  can't  imagine  it,"  said  Theodora. 

"  What  makes  you  hate  it  so  ? "  asked  Faith. 

"  It  is  not  so  mnch  that  I  hate  it  as  dread  it,"  an- 
swered Miriam.  "  I  may  he  a  great  coward,  but  when  I 
face  that  roomful  of  boys  and  girls,  the  fear  they  will 
ask  me  something  I  don't  know  is  like  a  horrible  night- 
mare." 

"  You  dear,  foolish,  naughty  girl ! "  exclaimed  Theo- 
dora. "  Who  expects  a  girl,  twenty  years  old,  to  know 
everything  ?     You  don't  set  yourself  up  as  infallible." 

"  I  should  think  you  would  look  the  lessons  over,  so 
you  would  know  all  about  them,"  said  Faith. 

"  Look  the  lessons  over !  Don't  I  study  till  past  mid- 
night every  night  ? " 

"  And  wake  up  at  haK-past  four  in  the  morning !  I 
don't  wonder  you  are  getting  dyspepsia,"  remarked 
Theodora. 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  yom*  lessons,  then  ? "  asked 
Faith,  in  amazement. 

"  There  is  no  end  to  what  there  is  to  know.  Ancient 
history,  for  instance,  is  one  of  my  studies — a  bright  class 
that  are  interested  to  know  all  about  it.  A  single  word 
in  a  lesson  will  often  send  me  on  a  two  or  three  hours' 
hunt  for  information  ;  and  so  it  is  about  the  other  things. 
Everything  shades  into  everything  else ;  so  that  I  don't 
see  how  you  are  ever  to  say  you  know  the  whole  of 
anything." 

"  But  you  know  more  than  your  scholars  do." 

"  I  should  hope  so  ;  but  I  want  there  should  be  nothing 
connected  with  their  lessons  I  don't  know." 

"You  may  as  well  give  up  and  come  down,"  said 


62  THEODOKA  :    A   HOME   STOKY. 

Theodora,  decidedly.  "  You  never  were  satisfied  without 
perfection,  in  anything,  and  you  come  about  as  near  it  as 
anybody  I  know ;  but  it  will  be  the  death  of  you  if  you 
don't  give  up  the  idea  of  reaching  it  all  at  once.  Make 
up  your  mind  that  it  is  no  shame  to  you  not  to  know 
everything.  Just  out  of  your  teens,  too.  It  won't  do 
for  YOU  to  abuse  your  health  this  way.  I  shall  tell 
mother  of  you." 

"  No,  no  !  j^o  fear  of  my  hurting  myseK.  I  should 
be  ashamed  if  I  couldn't  make  my  body  seiwe  my  spirit. 
I  am  determined  it  shall  keep  awake  just  as  many  hom'S 
as  I  need  it." 

"  That  somids  very  fine ;  but,  in  my  humble  opinion, 
it  is  nonsense.  You  may  as  well  keep  on  good  terms 
with  your  body.  It  will  get  the  better  of  you  in  the  end, 
if  you  don't.  Can't  I  talk  to  y(»u  like  a  sage  ?  I  didn't 
attend  Dr.  Salvio's  lectures  on  physiolog}'  and  hygiene 
for  nothing,  and  I  warn  you,"  turning  about  and  shaking 
her  head  solemnly  at  the  culprit,  "  that  if  you  go  on  at 
this  gait,  you  will  have  your  fine  constitution  broken 
down,  and  be  hampered  all  your  life  long.  You  will  get 
to  be  a  sickly  woman,  one  of  these  years.  Think  of  it !" 
with  a  shudder.  "  Whatever  you  do,  don't  abuse  your 
health  !  It's  no  use  trying  to  cheat  Nature.  She  keeps 
her  accounts  well,  and  will  bring  in  her  reckoning,  sooner 
or  later.  You  are  not  so  weU  now  as  you  were  when  you 
went  to  Downington." 

"  I  know  a  good  deal  more  than  I  did  then." 

"  I  don't  care.  You  have  forgotten  how  to  digest  your 
dinner.  Oh,  girls!"  exclaimed  Theodora,  suddenly 
changing  the  subject,  "  isn't  it  a  perfect  day,  and  wasn't 
Mrs.  Rodgers  an  old  angel  to  invite  us ! " 

The  angelic  Mrs.    Eodgers   was  the  motherly  widow 


TIIKEE    GIRLS.  63 

with  Avhom  Eobert  had  boarded  for  some  years.  That 
young  man  had  become  a  great  favorite  with  her,  and 
her  kind  heart  had  made  itself  very  happy  by  planning  a 
rich  pleasure  for  him — sending  for  his  sisters  to  come 
and  visit  her.  It  was  a  two-days'  drive  across  the  State, 
from  River  to  Lake,  and  our  light-hearted  travelers  were 
now  on  the  last  half  of  the  way. 

It  was  a  "  perfect  day."  The  sky  was  of  a  heavenly 
blue,  and  large  masses  of  clouds  were  sailing  about  in  it. 
They  were  dazzling  white  on  their  sunward  edges,  but 
deepened  into  soft  shades  of  dove-color  and  leaden  blue 
on  the  shadowed  side.  The  sun  and  clouds  seemed  to 
have  laid  their  heads  together  to  see  what  they  could  do 
with  the  mountains. 

The  Greeh  Mountain  range  rose,  a  mighty  rampart, 
to  the  east ;  massive  domes,  dark  with  forest  and  crag, 
the  kingly  peak  of  Mansfield,  and  the  Crouching  Lion  in 
his  grand  repose,  overlooking  the  rest.  Against  the 
western  sky  the  Adirondacks  reared  their  majestic  array, 
more  Gothic  in  their  outlines,  fainter  in  coloring. 

The  range  on  the  east  stood  near  and  solid  like  the 
grand  possibilities  of  earth  ;  that  in  the  west  rose  along 
the  horizon  like  an  ethereal  vision  of  the  Delectable 
Mountains  of  Paradise. 

The  girls  were  filled  with  delight  in  watching  the 
chanojes  of  lis'ht  and  shade.  Now  the  hills  looked  dark 
blue  and  solemn  with  mystery,  and  then  they  would  rip- 
ple all  over  with  floating  cloud-shadows  ;  and  again,  while 
a  cloud  shaded  the  foreground,  as  one  holds  a  hand  above 
the  eyes  to  look  into  the  distance,  the  sun  poured  down  a 
flood  of  radiance  which  brought  out  the  features  of  some 
distant  mountain,  crag,  forest,  avalanche,  and  grassy  field, 
as  if  it  were  close  at  hand.     Then  the  clouds  would  fall 


6-i  THEODORA  '.    A    HOME    STOKY. 

into  a  reverie,  and  throw  such  a  dreamy  veil  over  the 
hills  that  they  seemed  ready  to  dissolve  into  thin  air. 

The  hayfields  were  in  every  stage  of  progress.  Here, 
some  thrifty  farmer  had  mowed  so  early  that  the  second 
growth  was  already  springing  up,  making  "  sweet  fields  of 
living  green."  In  other  meadows,  the  seeded  grass  was 
dimpling  with  every  tint  of  delicate  brown.  Away  on 
the  hill-side,  too  far  off  for  sound,  but  not  for  fragrance, 
the  silent  motions  of  the  haymakers  could  be  seen,  and 
the  oxen  pacing  slowly  along  from  one  mow  to  another 
with  their  overhanging  load. 

Our  young  travelers  were  in  the  mood  to  enjoy  every- 
thing— a  child  peeping  through  a  gate — a  consequential 
jjuppy  running  out  to  bark  at  them — the  picture  seen 
through  open  barns — a  mossy  roof — an  old  well-sweep — 
blackberry  vines  wreathing  the  grotesque  horns  of  a 
stump-fence — a  brook  springing  down  the  rocks,  scatter- 
ing handfuls  of  crystals  and  pearls,  then  running  to  hide 
nnder  the  road.     AYhen  their  way  led  through  the  woods 

"  With  fragrance  and  with  joy  '  their  hearts  '  o'erflowed." 

Leaves  rustled  softly  overhead ;  long  shadows  lay  along 
the  ground ;  the  delicious  note  of  a  hermit  thrush  came 
from  the  heart  of  the  forest. 

When  the  distant  view  opened  to  them  again,  through 
the  thiimed  trees,  it  drew  from  them  a  cry  of  sui-prise 
and  deliofht.  Although  there  was  clear  sunshine  all  about 
them,  some  distant  shower  had  woven  a  rainbow  robe 
and  flung  it  over  the  most  graceful  of  the  mountain 
brotherhood. 

"  Oh,  if  it  will  only  wait  till  we  get  there  !  "  exclaimed 
Faith.  "  Do  drive  faster,  Theodora  ;  I  always  wanted  to 
touch  a  rainbow." 


THREE    GIELS.  65 

"  While  you  are  feeling  of  it,  I  will  go  lumt  for  the 
money-pot  at  the  bottom  of  it,"  said  Theodora. 

"  Sordid  soul !  To  talk  about  money-pots  before  such 
a  sight  as  that !  "  said  Miriam. 

"  The  things  money  will  bring  are  not  sordid,"  her 
sister  answered. 

"  What  would  you  do  with  your  money  if  you  found 
it  ?  "  asked  Faith.     "  Do  you  know  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  know  exactly  what  I  would  do,  if  I  found  a 
crock  of  gold,"  replied  Theodora.  "  I  would  give  the 
rest  of  you  what  you  need,  in  the  first  place,  and  then  for 
myself,  I  would  go  straight  to  Boston  and  get  the  very 
best  musical  training  to  be  had  there ;  then  I  would  go 
to  Em'ope  and  study  music  a  year  or  two  longer,  and 
travel  beside." 

"  And  then  ? " 

"  Then,  suppose  I  could  sing ;  I  should  want  to  make 
people  happy  with  it.  I  wouldn't  be  a  public  singer, 
you  know,  and  yet  how  gi-and  it  would  be  to  thrill  a 
great  audience  with  music  and  make  them  feel  just  as 
you  do !  I  would  sing  for  charity,  and  wherever  it 
would  be  a  help  and  a  comfort.  And  I  would  have  a 
beautiful  home  just  outside  the  city — there  isn't  to  be 
any  bottom  to  this  crock  of  gold — and  I  would  find  out 
poor  girls  that  had  a  talent  for  music  and  teach  them, 
and  give  them  a  start  in  the  world.  I  would  have  books, 
and  pictures,  and  flowers,  and  I  would  be  generous  to 
everybody,  and  do  no  end  of  good.  Then  when  father 
and  mother  grew  old,  I  would  have  them  come  and  live 
with  me." 

"  And  wouldn't  you  ever  marry  ? "  asked  Miriam. 

"  That  would  depend.  If  I  ever  found  anybody  that 
Hked  me  well  enough,  and  I  liked  well  enough,  I  would. 


66  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOKT. 

Bat,  you  see  I  should  want  him  to  be  aicfully  nice,  and 
the  chances  are  if  he  was  grand  enough  to  suit  me,  he 
wouldn't  care  anything  about  me.  But  wouldn't  it  be 
bliss,  girls,  to  have  money  enough  so  that  you  could  do 
what  you  wanted  to  and  get  what  you  liked,  without 
looking  this  way  and  that,  scrimping  and  contriving,  arid 
denying  yourself  about  every  little  thing.  I  am  so  sick 
and  tired  of  it !  But  then,  it's  my  portion  in  this  life, 
and  I  may  as  well  make  the  best  of  it.  Get  on,  Hanni- 
bal !  What  does  that  guide-post  say  ?  *  Six  miles  to  Wal- 
tonville.'  " 

"  Ahnost  there  !     AYon't  Eobert  be  glad ! " 

"  And  sha'n't  we  be  glad ! " 


VI. 

LAKESIDE     LODGE. 

"T'T'S  a  barouclie,  girls,"  said  Miriam,  peeping  out  be- 

1  tween  tlie  white  dimity  curtains  of  Mrs.  Rodgers' 
front  cliamber. 

"  Oh,  glorious  !  We  shall  ride  in  state  for  once  in  our 
lives,"  responded  Theodora,  who  was  looking  at  her  back 
hair  in  a  hand-glass. 

"  If  I  could  only  have  the  ride,  and  come  right  back, 
I  should  like  it,"  said  Faith  with  a  disconsolate  face. 
''  Why  need  I  go,  Miriam  ?  I  don't  want  to,  and  nobody 
wants  me." 

"Everybody  wants  you.  "We  should  not  enjoy  it  at 
all  to  go  and  leave  you  behind,"  answered  the  eldest  sis- 
ter, putting  her  hand  under  the  little,  pointed  chin. 

"But  Robert  says  they  are  so  dreadfully  stylish.  I 
shan't  know  how  to  behave,  and  it  would  be  better  for 
all  of  you  not  to  have  me  there.  If  it  is  my  hapj)iness 
you  think  about,  I  should  enjoy  it  forty  thousand  times 
better,  to  sit  down  in  Mrs.  Eodgers'  little  old  sitting- 
room  and  finish  my  book." 

"  Oh,  you  will  enjoy  it  after  the  ice  is  once  broken," 
said  Miriam,  pushing  back  the  child's  black  hair,  and  set- 
ting her  hat  on  her  head  as  she  spoke.  She  was  all  ready 
herself,  and  looking  as  dainty  as  a  tea-rose.  Miriam 
always  was  ready.  "  As  to  not  knowing  how  to  behave, 
this  is  one  of  the  chances  to  leam,  my  dear." 

(67) 


68  THEODORA:    A    HOME   STOET. 

"  Aren't  you  ready,  Theodora  ?  Those  horses  are  dig- 
ging a  well  before  Mrs.  Kodgers'  front  gate." 

"All  but —  Where's  my  bettermost  pocket-handker- 
chief ?  Please  put  my  hat  in  the  closet,  Faith.  Are 
these  pansies  pretty,  Miriam  ?"  holding  a  little  bunch  of 
them  up  to  her  bosom. 

"  Yes,  but  they  will  wilt  before  you  get  there,  this 
warm  day.  .Let  me  change  them  for  these  pinks,"  tak- 
iug  a  bright  bunch  from  a  little  vase,  and  wiping  their 
stems  as  she  spoke.  "  These  are  more  like  you, — spicy 
and  sweet." 
■    "  What  a  pretty  thing  to  say." 

"  On  your  dress,  or  in  your  hair  ?" 

"  Here,  in  front.  My  hair  is  such  a  neutral  brown  it 
seems  to  take  the  expression  all  out  of  flowers.  If  it 
was  a  positive  color  now,  like  yours  or  Faith's,  I  should 
always  be  sticking  them  in  it.  But  I  do  love  to  have 
the  blessed  things  about  me  someway." 

"  Eeady,  young  ladies  ?"  called  Mrs.  Eodgers. 

"  Tes,  ma'am,  all  ready !"  and  down  they  went. 

She  stood  in  the  hall  waiting  to  receive  them.  Her 
cap-frill  looked  as  if  it  would  give  kind  lodgment  to  all 
sorts  of  confidences ;  her  eyes  had  a  lively  snap  as  if  they 
still  relished  fun,  and  liked  to  forget  the  "  old  folks' 
spectacles,"  which  waited  within  call  on  the  end  of  her 
good-natured  little  nose.  Her  mouth  had  few  teeth  and 
many  wrinkles — the  well-worn  tracks  of  the  smiles  and 
laughter,  as  well  as  the  sorrows  of  sixty  years. 

"  You  will  pass  muster,"  she  said,  patting  each  on  the 
shoulder. 

"  I  wish  you  would  let  me  stay  with  you,  Mrs.  Rod- 
gers,"  said  Faith. 

"  Oh,  it  is  such  a  beautiful  place  at  Lakeside  Lodge, 


LAKESIDE    LODGE.  69 

you  will  be  loth  to  come  back  to  my  little  house,  I  am 
afraid.  Mrs.  Walton  is  an  elegant  lady,  and  you  will 
have  a  delightful  time.  I  gave  the  driver  your  shawls 
for  you  to  wear  back  in  the  evening.  I  knew  yon 
wouldn't  think  of  them.  Young  things,  like  you,  haven't 
much  sense.  You  would  kill  yourselves,  twenty  times 
over,  if  it  wasn't  for  us  old  folks.  There,  run  along, 
dears.     A  happy  time  to  ye." 

She  stood  in  the  porch  watching  the  brilhant  equipage 
as  it  wheeled  from  the  gate. 

"Miriam,  she  looks  as  if  she  was  born  in  a  barouche; 
but  Faithie,  poor  little  thing,  you  would  think  she  was 
going  to  a  funeral.  Theodory  is  happy,  I — tell — ^you  !" 
The  "  you  "  addressed  was  herself ;  "  she  won't  miss  any- 
thing there  is  a-going." 

"  Three  nice  girls,"  she  remarked  to  herself  as  she 
went  in  and  drew  together  the  blinds  of  the  front  door, 
"  but  not  a  speck  too  nice  for  my  Robert ;  not  a  speck  1" 

The  span  of  dappled  grays  were  curbed  to  walk  down 
the  village  street,  for  it  was  a  hot  August  afternoon,  but 
they  put  all  the  spirit  they  could  into  their  steps,  and 
their  silver-mounted  harness  glittered  in  the  burning  sun- 
shine. Their  driver,  conscious  of  the  worshipful  wonder 
of  all  small  boys,  and  of  curious  glances  from  between 
half-closed  shutters,  had  the  outward  indifference  and 
the  inward  exaltation  of  a  whole  grand  procession. 

"  Who  are  those  young  ladies  in  the  Walton  carriage  ?" 

"  Why,  those  must  be  Mr.  Cameron's  sisters  that  were 
to   meeting  with  him,  Sunday.     Mrs.  Walton  must  ha'  - 
sent  for  'em  to  tea." 

This  was  a  scrap  of  conversation  held  behind  several 
pairs  of  blinds  as  they  passed. 

The  street  outstripped  the  village,  and  ran  through  the 


70  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

woods  for  half  a  mile  or  so.  Then  one  was  surprised  by 
a  low,  handsome  wall  of  hewn  granite  which  transfonned 
these  woods  to  "  grounds." 

The  greys  pranced  more  proudly  than  ever,  when  they 
tuiTied  from  the  highway  into  a  broad,  smoothly-gravel- 
led drive,  which  passed  through  an  imposing  granite 
gateway  into  the  maple  grove,  crossed  a  rustic  bridge  at 
the  foot  of  a  lovely  dell,  wound  up  a  finely-graded  hill, 
and  then  swept  triumphantly  into  full  view  of  Lake 
Champlain,  blue  as  the  heavens,  bridged  with  a  pontoon 
of  floating  glory  fi-om  the  western  sun.  In  the  fore- 
ground, flowers,  shrubbery,  an  aristocratic-looking  man- 
sion, a  velvet  lawn,  which  sloped  to  the  water's  edge. 
As  the  carriage  rolled  up  to  the  door,  the  faces  of  the 
young  girls  within  it  were  radiant  with  pleasure  at  this 
unexpected  burst  of  beauty.  As  they  went  up  the  broad 
granite  steps,  bordered  with  arms  of  glowing  geraniums, 
a  view  of  the  lake,  and  the  mountains  beyond  it,  rose 
before  them  like  a  glorious  picture  richly  framed ;  for 
the  front  door  stood  open,  and  the  hall,  wide  as  a  street, 
and  lined  with  family  portraits,  ran  straight  through  the 
house  to  an  opposite  door  which  overlooked  the  scene. 
A  young  man,  reading,  on  the  back  veranda,  was  visible 
in  the  foreground. 

Before  they  had  time  to  ring,  a  lady  came  from  the 
darkened  parlor  to  meet  them,  saying,  with  the  kindest 
of  smiles,  "Mr.  Cameron's  sisters  need  no  introduction 
here." 

She  was  tall — substantial  enough  to  be  stately ;  not  too 
stout  to  be  graceful.  Silver-grey  curls  clustered  about 
her  forehead  and  peachy  cheeks.  A  cobweb  of  rich  lace, 
caught  here  and  there  with  a  pale-blue  bow,  heightened 
her  matronly  dignity  by  the  suggestion  of  a  cap.     Rich 


LAKESIDE   LODGE.  71 

lace  lay  caressingly  about  her  neck,  which  was  still  fair, 
though  no  longer  plump.  The  same  was  true  of  her 
hands.  The  soft  lace  at  her  wrists  seemed  fond  of  them. 
The  solitary  ring  she  wore — a  cluster  of  diamonds — re- 
minded one  of  her  long-past  wedding-day.  Her  black 
dress,  of  some  transparent,  silky  material,  tastefully  recog- 
nized prevailing  style  without  being  servile  to  it.  All 
her  features  and  her  movements  had  a  high-bred  refine- 
ment about  them.  She  received  her  young  guests  with  a 
gi^acious  cordiality.  I^either  she  nor  they  dreamed  that 
she  was  welcoming  to  her  beautiful  home  one  destined  to 
stir  its  tranquil  life  to  the  depths. 

The  house  was  full  of  the  dreamy,  fragrant  stillness  of 
an  August  afternoon.  .  To  remember  the  blazing  heat 
out  of  doors,  while  sitting  in  those  large,  cool  rooms,  sip- 
ping iced  lemonade,  hearing  Mrs.  Walton  say  pleasant 
things  in  a  soft,  clear  voice,  and  seeing  some  rich  or  inter- 
esting object  wherever  the  eyes  wandered,  gave  one  the 
impression  that  trouble  and  discomfort  could  never  find 
their  way  into  this  enchanted  mansion. 

But  let  us  listen,  with  Mrs.  Kodgers,  to  the  girls'  own 
account  of  their  visit,  when  they  came  home  to  the  cot- 
tage, about  half-past  nine  in  the  evening,  with  their 
brother  Robert,  who  had  joined  them  at  tea. 

Little  Mrs.  Eodgers  sat  by  the  table  with  her  knitting- 
work,  intently  counting  the  stitches  as  she  was  "  setting 
the  heel." 

"  Thirteen,  fourteen —  Well,  children,  what  kind  of  a 
time  did  you  have  ?  " 

She  dropped  her  spectacles  to  the  end  of  her  nose,  and 
settled  back  in  her  rocking-chair  to  knit  and  listen. 

"  Oh,  delightful !  "  answered  the  two  eldest  girls,  with 
an  expressive  sigh  of  satisfaction. 


72  THEODORA  I    A    HOME   STOKT. 

"  And  how  did  our  Faitliie  get  along  ? '' 

"  It  wasn't  quite  so  bad  as  I  expected,''  answered  Faith, 
slowly,  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  light.  "  Mrs.  "Walton 
was  very  nice.  If  I  was  a  beautiful  lady,  and  had  an 
awkward,  bashful  girl  come  to  see  me,  I  would  treat  her 
just  so  !  She  let  me  look  at  engravings  ever  so  long,  and 
just  spoke  to  me  often  enough  to  let  me  know  she  hadn't 
forgotten  me ;  and  she  didn't  ask  me  anything,  but  just 
told  me  something  interesting  about  them.  Then  she 
turned  me  loose  in  the  grounds,  and  I  had  a  lovely  time 
there." 

"  Mrs.  Walton  complains  that  you  don't  come  to  see 
them  half  as  often  as  they  would  like,  Robert,"  said 
Miriam. 

"  There,  that's  what  I  am  always  telling  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Rodgers.  "  They  have  invited  him  up  there,  I  don't 
know  ho\v  many  times,  and  tell  him  to  make  it  a  home, 
like ;    and  I  just  have  to  di'ive  him  off  whenever  he 


"  They  are  too  grand  to  suit  me,"  said  Robert.  "  I 
would  a  hundred  times  rather  spend  an  evening,  when  I 
have  it,  in  this  cosy  little  sitting-room,  with  Mrs.  Rodgers 
and  my  newspaper,'' 

"  Too  grand  !  "  exclaimed  Theodora.  "  I  think  it  is 
charming.  I  never  felt  more  at  home.  '  I  dreamt  that  I 
dwelt  in  marble  halls,'  and  I  tell  you  I  liked  it !  I  would 
ask  nothing  more  delightful  than  to  be  such  an  elegant, 
cultivated,  fascinating  lady  as  Mrs.  "Walton,  and  live  in 
such  a  beautiful  home.  Why,  Robert,  don't  you  think 
she  is  beautiful? " 

"  I  like  a  plainer  kind  of  people  better.  She  is  so  very 
polite,  I  never  feel  sure  she  is  sincere.'' 

"Did  you  see  Mr.  Walton  and  Ben?"    asked  Mrs. 


LAKESIDE   LODGE.  73 

Eodgers,  scratching  her  head  with  one  of  her  knitting- 
needles. 

"  Yes,  indeed ;  we  saw  the  whole  family,"  said  Miriam. 
"  Mr.  Ben  is  quite  an  exquisite,  isn't  he  ? " 

"  He  looked  cool  as  our  ice-cream,  in  his  Summer  suit, 
but  I  didn't  fancy  him  at  all,''  said  Theodora.  "  He  acts 
as  if  he  was  made  for  some  other  planet,  and  put  here  by 
mistake,  and  nothing  was  quite  good  enough  for  him.  But 
I  do  like  that  older  brother." 

"  What ! — Jack  wasn't  at  home,  was  he  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Eodgers. 

"  Came  tliis  very  afternoon.  Mrs.  "Walton  received  a 
telegram  soon  after  we  went,  and  he  followed  it,  about  an 
hour  later,  with  his  two  little  girls." 

"  And  his  wife  ?  " 

"  She  is  at  Saratoga.  A  nursery-maid  came  with  the 
children." 

"  Pretty  children  ?  Where  is  my  knitting-needle  ? " — 
hunting  over  the  table  and  the  floor.  The  whole  group 
join  in  the  search. 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Rodgers,  it  is  sticking  up  in  yom*  haii',  like 
a  liberty-pole,"  said  Faith,  finally. 

"  La  sakes !  what  an  old  woman  I  am  getting  to  be ! 
What  was  you  a-saying  aboat  Jack  Walton's  children  ? " 

Each  of  the  young  ladies  looked  to  the  other  to  answer. 

"  They  were  beautifully  di'essed,"  said  Miriam.  "Tes, 
rather  pretty." 

"  Pretty  behaved  ? " 

"  I  don't  think  they  were,  at  all,"  said  Faith,  seeing  that 
no  one  else  seemed  disposed  to  answer.  "  The  littlest 
was  well  enough,  but  the  other  went  flirting  her  little 
skirts  like  a  peacock's  tail,  and  casting  glances  at  herself  in 
the  long  mirrors.  When  her  father  held  out  his  hand  to 
4 


74  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STOKY. 

her,  she  struck  at  it.  Then  she  went  sidling  up  to  Robert, 
trying  to  make  him  notice  her,  and  making  saucy  little 
answers  when  he  did  talk  with  her.  I  don't  think  she  is  a 
nice  child  at  all.  Oh,  Mrs.  Rodgers,  you  don't  know  how 
awful  it  was  when  we  went  out  to  tea,''  she  went  on,  sit- 
ting down  on  a  wooden  foot-stool  at  her  feet.  "  Mrs. 
"Walton  took  Robert's  arm,  and  Mr.  Walton  offered  his  to 
^liriam,  and  she  walked  out  as  dignified  and  graceful  as 
you  please ;  and  the  !New  York  Mr.  Walton  and  Theodora 
were  talking  and  laughing,  and  they  went  out  together ; 
so  there  was  left  that  teriibly  stylish,  fastidious  Mr.  Ben 
and  poor  little  scared  Me !  He  thought  he  must  give  me 
his  ann,  and  I  took  it,  and  I  felt  like  a  fool.  He  needn't 
flatter  himself  he  hated  to  take  me  any  worse  than  I  hated 
to  be  taken.  I  wish  people  would  just  go  along  and  eat, 
if  they  are  hungry,  and  not  make  such  a  parade.  I 
thought  it  would  be  dreadful  at  supper,  for  he  couldn't 
think  of  anything  to  say  to  me  any  more  than  I  to  him. 
But  it  happened  that  Miriam  was  on  the  other  side  of 
him,  so  he  was  happy,  and  let  me  alone." 

"  Wasn't  the  supper-table  beautiful  ? "  exclaimed  Theo- 
dora ;  "  with  silver,  and  glass,  and  flowers.  Oh,  I  do  hke 
pretty  things !  Such  nice  things  to  eat,  too  !  What  is 
this  '  Benjie,'  as  his  mother  calls  him  ?  Is  he  in  college, 
or  what  ? " 

"  What,"  answered  Robert. 

"  He  was  in  college,  but  his  health  was  delicate,  I  be- 
lieve, and  they  took  him  out,"  explained  Mrs.  Rodgei-s. 

"  So  what  does  he  do  now  ? " 

"  Dawdles  around  generally  in  a  genteel  way,"  answered 
Robert. 

"  iS^ow  I  do  say  Benjie  Walton  was  about  the  prettiest 
little  boy  ever  I  saw,"  said  Mi  s.  Rodgers,  snapping  her 


LAKESIDE   LODGE.  75 

little  black  eyes  at  him.  "  Robert  is  so  smart  himself  he 
lia'n't  any  patience  with  folks  that  don't  'pear  to  'com- 
plish  much  ;  but  I  have  faith  to  believe  that  Ben  will 
turn  out  somethin'  more  than  common  yet." 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  ladies  all  admire  him,  Auntie  Rodgers 
not  excepted,"  said  Robert,  picking  up  her  ball,  and  reel- 
ing off  the  blue  yarn  to  her. 

"  Did  you  admire  him,  Miriam  ? "  asked  Faith.  "  Pie 
talked  with  you  when  he  did  with  anybody." 

"  ^o,"  answered  Miriam,  with  some  hesitation.  "  I 
dislike  that  supercillious  air  he  has  ;  still  he  said  a  good 
many  things  that  interested  me,  and  he  seems  to  know  a 
good  deal  about  music,  and  pictures,  and  poetry." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Robert.  "  He  writes  poems  and  plays 
the  guitar." 

"  Didn't  you  think  Mr.  Walton  himself,  the  father,  was 
a  fine-looking  man  ? "  asked  the  little  widow. 

"  Yes,  rather  imposing ;  he  would  look  better,  though, 
if  he  wouldn't  wear  a  wig." 
.  "  How  do  you  know  he  does  'i "  asked  Faith. 

"  There  is  no  proper  coast  line  between  his  hair  and 
his  neck,"  answered  Theodora.  "  His  well-oiled  brown 
hair  curls  up  its  ends  disdainfully  from  his  old  skin.  It 
needn't  be  so  proud  of  its  youthful  appearance,  for  an 
honest  shock  of  white  hair,  or  even  a  shiny  bald  crown, 
would  look  better  in  its  place." 

"That's  a  great  head  for  business,  though,"  said 
Robert. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  he  has  just  made  WaltonviUe,"  added 
Mrs.  Rodgers. 

"  And,  what  is  more,  he  has  made  himself,  as  he  told 
me,"  remarked  Theodora. 

"  Yes,  he  started,  a  poor  boy  ;  we  used  to  go  to  school 


76  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

together,  and  I  remember  how  his  toes  used  to  peek  out 
of  his  old  shoes  ;  but  he  has  made  his  way  right  straight 
ahead.  Been  honest  and  honorable,  and  brought  other 
folks  along  with  him,  too.  Mrs.  Walton,  she  was  born 
rich.  The  Jaekmans  are  a  fine  old  family.  Folks  may 
say  what  they  please,  I  shall  always  stick  to  it,  Mrs.  Wal- 
ton ain't  proud,  but  if  slie's  proud  of  anything,  it's  her 
graudsir,  and  great-grandsir,  and  great-great-grand  si  i\ 
You  jest  get  her  a  tellin'  about  these  portraits  in  the 
front  hall,  and  you  will  see  all  the  pride  there  is  in  her. 
I  don't  say,  though,  but  what  she's  a  grain  proud  of  her 
two  boys." 

"  She  well  may  be  proud  of  the  New  York  Mr.  Wal- 
ton," said  Theodora.  "I  think  he  is  about  the  most 
agreeable  gentleman  I  ever  saw.  He  is  so  entertaining 
and  kind!  It  was  as  if  a  refreshing  breeze  swept 
through  the  house  when  he  got  home.  lie  is  just  delight- 
ful ;  and  as  for  Mrs.  Walton  herself,  I  am  dead  in  love 
with  her !  We  sat  on  the  back  veranda,  and  saw  the 
sun  set  across  the  lake,  and  then  we  sang  till  the  stars 
came  out.     You  can't  think  how  beautiful  it  was !  " 

"  So  was  the  ride  home,"  said  Miriam.  "  Though  the 
stars  are  out,  it  seems  as  if  the  twilight  was  not  going  to 
fade  quite  away  in  the  west,  all  night." 

"Both  the  Mr.  Waltons  came  home  with  us,"  said 
Faith,  "and  Mr.  Jack  drove.  What  did  they  name  a 
regular  gentleman  hke  him  Jack  for  ?  " 

"  He  wasn't  a  regular  gentleman  when  he  was  born,  my 
dear,"  said  Mrs.  Eodgers,  laughing.  "  His  name  is  Jack- 
man,  for  his  mother's  family  ;  but  everybody  always  called 
him  Jack,  and  I  guess  they  always  will.  It  don't  make 
much  difference  what  you  name  children,  folks  will  al- 
ways think  up  somethin'  else  to  call  'em." 


LAKESIDE    LODGE.  77 

"  Fine  girls,"  remarked  Mr.  Jack  Walton  to  Lis  broth- 
er, as  tliey  were  driving  liome. 

"  Tlie  eldest  has  something  rather  elegant  about  her," 
answered  Mr.  Ben,  with  an  air  of  condescending  candor. 
"  The  little  one  is  painfully  bashful,  and  as  for  the 
middle  sister,  she  is  too  demonstrative.  She  has  no 
stjle." 

"  We  are  getting  critical,"  said  the  elder  brother,  with 
a  careless  laugh.  "  I  have  had  style  enough.  It  is  re- 
freshing to  me  to  meet  a  fresh,  natural  girl,  who  says  what 
she  thinks  and  keeps  the  shape  she  was  made.  Her  sing- 
ing is  really  delightful." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  other,  indifferently,  "  with  cultiva- 
tion it  might  be  something  rather  extra." 

"Why,  my  boy," — Mr.  Ben  no  longer  liked  being 
called  '  my  boy '  by  his  brother — "  such  voices  as  hers  are 
rare  as  diamonds.  It  is  a  shame  it  should  not  be  culti- 
vated.    It  must  be." 

And  Mr.  Jack  Walton  lapsed  into  silent  reflection, 
which  led  to  a  consultation  with  his  mother,  on  reaching 
home ;  then  to  an  exchange  of  letters  with  his  wife,  and, 
the  third  day,  a  call  at  Mrs.  Rodgers'.  As  he  walked  up 
the  path  between  the  lilac  bushes,  the  little  cottage  seemed 
running  over,  like  a  bird-cage,  with  nmsic.  It  was  a 
fresh,  dewy  morning;  doors  and  windows  were  open. 
The  song  swelled  and  died  away — was  dropped,  as  if  for- 
gotten, then  picked  up  again,  in  just  that  way  that  shows 
the  singer  is  moving  about,  busy  with  other  things,  sing- 
ing half  unconsciously.  He  paused  and  Ksteued  a  min- 
ute or  two  ;  then  with  a  quick,  decided  nod,  as  if  fortified 
in  some  opinion,  went  on.  As  he  stepped  into  the  little 
porch,  the  smger  came  to  the  door.  The  trill  on  her  lips 
broke  into  a  laugh. 


78  THEODORA  .    A    HOME    STOKY. 

"  A  little  more,  Mr.  Walton,  and  I  should  have  shaken 
this  dusting-cloth  in  your  face." 

She  had  a  blue  veil  wound  like  a  turban  over  her 
hair,  and  sweeping-gloves  on  her  hands. 

"  Do  come  in  ;  I  assure  vou,  the  sitting-room  is  thorough- 
ly dusted." 

"  Ko  doubt  of  it,  since  I  see  what  hands  did  it,''  an- 
swered Mr.  Walton,  gallantly.  "  Mrs.  Eudgers  is  fortu- 
nate in  guests  that  know  how  to  make  themselves  useful. 
But  let  us  sit  right  down  here  " — and  taking  a  chair  from 
the  hall  for  her,  he  sat  down  on  the  doorstep,  fanning 
himself  with  his  Panama  hat.  "  I  called  on  business, 
and  you  are  the  very  young  lady  I  wanted  to  see." 

"  Indeed  !  This  is  a  new  sensation  to  be  called  upon, 
on  business,"  said  Theodora,  pulling  off  her  dusty  gloves. 
"What  can  it  be?" 

"  You  know  my  little  girls  ?  " 

Theodora  nodded  slightly  ;  the  ground  was  indisputa- 
ble so  far. 

"  They  are  too  young  to  go  to  school  or  to  need  a  regular 
governess,  and  yet  they  are  old  enough  to  be  learning 
something.  Especially  I  want  them  to  start  early  in  their 
music,  and  have  their  lingers  used  to  the  piano  from  the 
first." 

Whereto  did  this  tend  ?  wondered  Theodora,  unwind- 
ing the  veil  from  her  head  while  she  listened.  She  did 
not  feel  eager  to  initiate  the  young  Waltons  in  knowledge, 
if  that  was  it. 

"  So  much  for  what  I  want,"  said  Mr.  Walton,  twirl- 
ing his  hat  between  his  thumb  and  fingers.  "  ]^ow  you 
want,  and  ought  to  have,  the  best  advantages  for  musical 
education  that  are  to  be  had.  If  you  have  a  mind  to 
come  into  my  family  and  teach  my  little  girls,  two  hom-s  a 


LAKESIDE   LODGE.  79 

day,  I  wall  provide  you  with  tlie  best  instruction  Isew  York 
affords,  in  singing  and  piano.  Can  we  strike  a  bar- 
gain ? " 

Mr.  TValton  looked  up  at  tlie  young  lady  as  lie  made 
his  proposal.  He  saw  a  sudden  light  come  into  her  face, 
and  noticed  that  she  drew  a  deep  breath  ;  yet  she  did  not 
answer  on  the  instant,  and  when  she  did,  the  shape  of  her 
thoughts  amused  him. 

"  That  would  be  a  very  poor  bargain  for  you,  Mr.  Wal- 
ton. That  best  musical  instruction  costs  a  fearful  sum, 
and  all  I  could  do  for  your  little  girls,  in  two  hom-s  a 
day,  would  not  half  pay  for  it." 

"  That  is  my  look-out,"  said  he,  smiling.  "  This  is 
business,  you  know.  When  I  propose  a  bargain  to  a 
man,  he  doesn't  take  much  time  to  consider  whether 
there  is  any  chance  of  my  clieating  myself.  Would  you  be 
satisfied  with  it  on  your  part  ?  " 

"  Satisfied !  "  exclaimed  Theodora,  looking  at  him,  her 
face  full  of  earnestness.  "  It  is  such  a  chance  as  I  have 
been  longing  and  praying  for,  but  did  not  expect  to  have." 

"  I  am  afraid  tliere  was  not  much  faith  in  your  prayers," 
said  Mr.  Walton,  with  a  pleasant  laugh. 

"  I  think  there  will  always  be  more  hereafter,"  she 
said  feelingly. 

"  You  will  come,  then,"  he  said,  rising ;  it  was  not  his 
way  to  waste  time  talking  over  a  decision  once  made. 

"  If  my  father  and  mother  approve." 

"  Of  course.  We  go  home  the  second  week  of  Sep- 
tember.    Shall  you  be  here  then  ?  " 

"  I  must  go  home  first." 

"  Join  us  on  the  way,  then ;  we  can  easily  arrange 
that.     Good-moming." 

And  with  a  cordial  smile  he  bowed,  walked  quickly 


80  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STOKY. 

down  the  path,  sprang  into  his  jaunty  buggy,  picked  up 
the  reins,  and  drove  off. 

Theodora  stood  looking  after  him  till  there  was  noth- 
ing to  be  seen  but  a  cloud  of  illuminated  dust,  and 
then  went  in  to  tell  her  sisters  the  sudden  change  that 
had  come  over  her  fortunes. 

"  Girls,  I  have  found  the  end  of  the  rainbow !  I  have 
the  desire  of  my  heart !  I  am  to  go  to  New  York  this 
Fall  and  study  music  under  the  best  masters  I " 


VII. 

A   TTJEN   IN   THE   TIDE. 

THE  next  afternoon  Miriam  and  Theodora  went 
down  to  "the  store,"  to  walk  back  with  Eobert 
when  he  came  to  tea.  Faith  preferred  to  stay  behind 
and  finish  a  book,  as  they  were  to  start  for  home  the 
next  morning. 

It  was  one  of  those  country  stores  where  you  may  find 
everything  you  really  need  to  put  on  or  put  in  you — the 
utensils  necessary  to  cook  your  dinner  or  till  your  farm — 
school-books  and  stationery,  if  you  thirst  for  knowledge 
— and  fifty  different  patent  medicines,  any  one  of  which 
will  infallibly  cure  you,  if  you  are  sick.  It  was  uncom- 
monly large  and  well-stocked,  as  it  belonged  to  Mr.  Wal- 
ton, who  had  a  plenty  of  capital,  but  had  nothing  to  do 
with  the  business  personally. 

"When  his  sisters  came  in,  Robert  was  trading  with  a 
customer  whose  eyes  were  level  with  the  counter.  He 
was  rather  above  medium  height,  with  a  manly  pair  of 
shoulders,  and  a  face  just  as  frank  and  friendly  as  it  was 
in  boyhood.  Strength  and  self-reliance  had  been  added 
to  it,  as  well  as  a  beard,  but  the  clear  eyes  that  were  look- 
ing kindly  down  on  the  little  girl  measuring  slate  pen- 
cils, seemed  quite  unchanged.  His  eyes  and  Theodora's 
were  alike  in  color,  blue  as  violets ;  but  his  had  a  steady 
light ;  hers  were  changeful  as  a  mountain  lake. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come,"  he  said,  looking  up  at  his 
sisters  with  a  smile.  "I  have  sometliingto  tell  you.  Just 
4*  (81) 


82  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

make  yoiu'selves  comfortable  till  this  jomig  lady  is  waited 
upon/' 

Miriam  sat  down  in  one  of  the  flag-bottomed  kitchen 
chairs,  while  Theodora  went  straying  about  the  store  to 
see  what  she  could  see. 

When  the  small  customer  had  made  her  choice  with 
mature  deliberation,  and  paid  her  i^enny,  like  a  woman 
with  money  to  spend,  the  clerk  put  away  the  box  of  pen- 
cils, flung  two  or  three  pieces  of  calico  back  on  their 
shelves,  and  vaulted  over  the  counter. 

"  JSTow  then,  what  is  it  you  have  to  tell  us  ?"  asked 
Theodora,  bringing  along  his  hat  which  she  had  noticed 
in  the  counting-room. 

"  This  afternoon,  Mr.  Walton  drove  up  and  asked  if 
Mr.  Morse  could  spare  me  for  a  few  minutes ;  he  wanted 
to  speak  with  me,  so  I  took  a  seat  with  him  and  rode  off, 
wondering  what  was  up. 

"  He  went  through  a  long  preamble  to  the  effect  that, 
though  he  had,  perhaps,  the  largest  business  in  this  part 
of  the  State,  he  always  kept  the  run  of  the  yoimg  men 
in  his  employment — ^he  never  forgot  that  he  started  with 
nothing  except  himself,  and  '  attained  some  little  suc- 
cess ;'  I  couldn't  imagine  what  he  was  driving  at.  Then 
he  said  he  was  always  pleased  to  find  business  ability  and 
integrity  combined  in  a  young  man — " 

"  That  means  you,"  said  Miriam. 

"  And  partnership,"  said  Theodora. 

"  Better  than  that,"  said  Eobert,  tossing  up  the  yard- 
stick, and  catching  it  with  a  certain  sleight  of  hand.  "  He 
said  he  had  thought  of  putting  me  in  charge  of  the  store 
here,  but  a  remark  dropped  by  one  of  my  sisters  had 
suggested  another  plan  to  his  mind." 

"  One  of  your  sisters  !"  exclaimed  both  the  girls  at  once. 


A   TURN    IN    THE   TIDE.  83 

"  Yes,  you  did  a  neat  thing  for  me  without  knowing 
it,  whichever  of  you  'twas.  She  remarked,  he  said,  that 
I  had  a  strong  inclination  to  faraiuig.  He  asked  if  I 
knew  anything  about  it,  and  I  told  him  about  my  Smn- 
mers  with  Uncle  David,  and  so  forth.  He  said  he  had  a 
good  deal  of  valuable  property  in  Minnesota,  which  he 
was  not  realizing  much  from.  He  wanted  a  man  there 
whom  he  could  trust.  It  would  be  worth  his  while  to 
make  it  a  good  chance  for  me  if  I  chose  to  go  out  there 
— take  a  part  of  his  land  and  rent  the  rest,  and  see  to 
things  generally.  Told  me  to  think  it  over,  and  let  him 
know  in  a  week." 

"  What  did  you  say  ?" 

"  I  said,  as  far  as  I  was  concerned,  I  did  not  need  ten. 
minutes  to  think  it  over.  I  would  go.  But  I  should 
want  to  consult  the  family." 

"  Oh,  Robert,  that  is  so  far  off  !"  said  Miriam. 

"HI  am  away,  I  am  away,  whether  it's  a  hundi'ed 
miles,  or  a  thousand,"  he  answered. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  would  like  it  better  ?"  asked  Theo- 
dora. 

"  Certain.  If  I  couldn't  do  better,  I  would  stay  here 
and  be  contented ;  but  I  don't  like  it.  Should  you  ? 
Here  comes  a  man  and  spends  half  an  hour  trying  to  beat 
me  down  ten  cents  on  a  hoe.  Kext,  there  is  a  woman 
after  a  calico  dress ;  I  take  down  a  dozen  pieces,  one 
after  the  other,  and  she  wonders  if  this  vrill  wash,  and 
yanks  that  to  see  if  it  will  tear,  and  is  afraid  the  nest  one 
won't  be  becoming  to  her,  and  wants  to  know  whether  I 
would  rather  have  the  brown  one  or  the  drab  one  if  I  was 
she,  and  when  she  has  concluded  she  might  as  well  take 
the  first  one  she  looked  at,  she  tells  me  I'm  very  dear ; 
she  thinks  Jones  had  the  same  thing  last  week  for  two 


84  THEODOEA  :    A   HOME   8T0KY. 

cents  less,  and  pays  her  money  as  if  she  was  being  cheat- 
ed. Tlien  comes,  perhaps,  young  Mrs.  Florville  to  match 
worsteds  and  trimmings.  She  paws  things  all  over, 
and  snarls  them  up,  and  then  goes  off,  saying  she  might 
have  known  she  couldn't  find  what  she  wanted  in  a  coun- 
try store.  Sometimes  there's  a  rush,  and  I  fly  around, 
and  serve  everybody  as  fast  as  I  can  ;  still  the  rest  will  be 
looking  sour  as  choke-cherries  because  I  don't  wait  on 
them  all  at  once.  If  trade  is  dull,  and  I  think  it  is  a 
good  chance  to  read  a  bit,  or  write  a  letter,  in  comes  two 
or  three  girls  that  haunt  the  store ;  they  want  to  look  at 
everything,  and  they  buy  nothing.  I  don't  see  what  on 
earth  they  do  it  for !" 

"  Why,  you  innocent  youth,"  said  Theodora,  pulhng 
his  whiskers,  "  they  hke  to  talk  with  the  clerk." 

"  Oh,  pshaw !"  retahating  on  a  curl  of  hers,  "  that  can't 
be  it." 

In  fact,  Kobert  Cameron  was  so  straightforward  and 
business-hke,  that  a  great  many  "  nods  and  becks,  and 
wreathed  smiles  "  were  wasted  on  him  by  the  rastic  beau- 
ties of  Waltonville.  Coy  glances  were  shot  into  those 
honest  blue  eyes  without  the  owner's  even  knowing  he 
had  been  aimed  at.  There  were  two  or  three  young 
ladies  in  the  village  who  were  among  his  best  and  dearest 
friends  there,  but  they  were  not  these  who  "  haunted  the 
store." 

"  But  it  seems  so  lonesome  for  you  to  go  away  there," 
sighed  Miriam. 

"  It  cannot  be  much  lonesomer  than  it  was  here  when 
I  first  came.  I  should  be  ashamed  to  tell  how  mortally 
homesick  I  was  the  first  two  or  three  weeks.  "When  I 
locked  myself  into  the  store  all  alone  for  the  night,  and 
went  up  to  my  dreaiy  room  overhead  here,  and  thought 


A   TURN    IN    THE   TIDE.  85 

of  the  rest  of  you  all  at  home, — if  I  had  been  a  girl,  and 
could  have  cried,  I  should  have  got  over  it  sooner." 

"  I  think  it  is  awful  to  sleep  all  alone  in  a  large  build- 
ing like  this,"  said  Miriam, 

"  Why  do  you  do  it  ?" 

"  Oh,  somebody  needs  to  be  here  in  case  of  burglars  or 
fire,  you  know." 

"  I  don't  wish  you  to  be  here  all  alone — '  in  case  of 
burglars  or  fire !'  Why  can't  you  have  some  one  room 
with  you — that  little  clerk  at  least." 

"  Jimmj'  ?  Oh,  I  would  much  rather  room  alone.  I 
don't  mind  it  now,  I  am  used  to  it.  I  am  only  too  glad 
when  they  are  all  gone.  One  great  nuisance  of  the  life 
here  is  the  company,  evenings ;  especially  in  cold  weather. 
Men  want  some  warm  place  to  get  together  and  talk. 
Mr.  Morse  is  a  story-teller,  and  of  com'se  he  wants  an 
audience.  Of  a  Winter  evening  there  is  always  a  circle 
of  men  and  boys  gossiping  around  the  stove.  I  haven't 
so  much  respect  for  my  fellow-men  as  I  used  to  have ; 
they  have  such  a  relish  for  overhauling  characters,  and 
retailing  low  stories." 

"  You  never  wrote  liome  about  these  disagreeable 
things,  Robert,"  said  one  of  his  sisters. 

"  What's  the  use  ?  It  would  have  set  mother  to  worry- 
ing. I  believe  the  thing  that  roiled  me  more  than  any- 
thing else,  till  I  got  used  to  it,  was  to  see  the  difference 
in  the  way  people  were  treated  in  the  store.  You  know, 
father  and  mother  always  treated  poor  people  with  all 
the  more  kindness  because  they  were  poor,  and  trained  us 
so  ;  and  it  used  to  make  me  wrathy  to  see  how  Mr.  Morse 
would  snub  a  shabby  body,  and  then  be  all  smiles  to  the 
next  comer,  if  he  only  had  plenty  of  '  tin.'  Tliey  say  he 
has  a  gift  for  steering  clear  of  bad  debts.     Poor  people 


86  THEC'DORA  *.    A    HOME    STORY. 

are  afraid  of   liim.    There  be  conies  now,  and  we  can 

go." 

Mr.  Morse  came  in,  greeted  the  young  ladies  jocosely, 
related  a  short  anecdote,  illustrated  with  many  gestures, 
and  then  the  three  Canierons  started  for  the  cottage, 
walking  slowly  along  the  path  under  the  maples,  which 
answered  for  the  sidewalk  to  the  village  street. 

'"  I  hate  to  think  of  you  living  a  lonesome,  disagreeable 
life  over  here  all  this  time,"  said  Miriam. 

"  I  haven't ;  no,  indeed.  I  said  it  was  lonesome  at  lirst. 
I  bad  been  nsed  to  such  a  pleasant  home,  and  so  many 
friends,  that  it  was  a  dismal  change.  I  don't  wonder  so 
many  boys  go  to  the  dogs  when  they  are  shaken  out  of  the 
nest.  There  are  chances  enono^h  in  a  little  village  like 
this,  even.  But  I  found  good  fiiends  before  long.  I  went 
into  Sunday-school  at  once,  and  the  weekly  prayer-meet- 
ing, and  that  was  introduction  enough  to  the  best  people 
here. 

"  No,  indeed,  Miriam  ;  it  hasn't  been  lonesome  nor 
disagreeable ;  and  if  it  was  necessary,  I  could  go  on  in 
this  line  of  business  to  the  end  contentedly  enough ;  but 
when  the  work  opens  l)efore  me  that  I  like  of  all  things, 
and  think  myself  best  fitted  for  by  nature,  I  am  glad." 

"And  I  am  glad  for  you,  Robert,"  said  Theodora, 
slipping  her  hand  into  his.  They  went  along,  swinging 
the  clasped  hands  like  two  children. 

"  So  am  I,  if  it  is  the  best  thing,"  said  the  other  sister. 

"  How  many  times  I  have  laughed,  Miriam,  to  remem- 
ber my  first  day  in  the  store,  and  how  you  wanted  me  to 
go  into  it  because  it  was  clean  work !  The  very  first 
thing  I  was  set  to  do  was  to  go  do\vn  cellar  and  clean  up 
where  a  barrel  of  kerosene  had  been  leaking. 

"  Oh,  I  like  to  be  out-of-doors,  and  see  things  grow,"  and 


A   TURN    IN    THE    TIDE.  87 

he  breatlied  deep  as  lie  said  it.  "  That  Minnesota  life 
looks  free  and  manh^,  compared  with  this.  Some  men 
have  a  native  love  of  trade ;  but  as  for  me,  I  like  the 
earth  for  a  creditor '  best.  It  is  a  pity  to  have  wasted 
these  years  before  getting  at  my  real  business;  but  it 
couldn't  be  helped,  as  I  know." 

"  I  think  they  are  not  wasted,''  said  Miriam.  "  This 
dealing  with  people  has  given  you  a  kind  of  education 
that  will  be  useful  anywhere.'' 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  The  money  I  have  saved 
will  be  useful,  anyhow." 

The  Waltonville  prayer-meeting  had  about  the  same 
elements  of  the  spiritual  and  the  formal,  the  refreshing 
and  the  dull,  as  its  sisters  in  other  small  villages.  It  was 
varied  that  evening  by  a  strong  reinforcement  in  the 
singing,  and  by  a  talk  from  Mr.  "Walton,  of  New  York. 
His  ringing  tones  and  crisp  sentences  waked  up  the 
sleepy.  His  style  was  marked  by  that  air  of  briskness — 
of  intending  to  convert  the  world  without  any  more  fool- 
ing— which  distinguishes  a  city  exhorter  from  his  country 
brother.  He  told  stories  of  mission-school  work  which 
moved  both  tears  and  smiles,  and  left  his  old  townsmen  im- 
pressed with  his  goodness  and  pleased  with  his  brightness. 

When  meeting  was  over,  many  of  Robert's  friends 
crowded  about  to  say  good-bye  to  his  sisters ;  for  they  had 
made  acquaintances,  paid  visits,  and  gone  on  pleasant  ex- 
cm-sions  not  herein  recorded. 

As  the  minister  shook  hands  with  them,  he  said  :  "  Tell 
your  father  that  his  son  is  a  treasure  in  this  parish.  He 
is  ready  to  help  m  everything  good.  He  doesn't  talk 
about  religion  as  much  as  some — not  as  much  as  I  some- 
times wish  he  would;  but  the  simple  sincerity  of  his 
Christian  character  gives  him  a  grand  influence  among 


88  THEODOKA  :    A    HOME    STOKY. 

the  young  people ;  and,  when  lie  does  speak  or  pray  in 
meeting  here,  we  all  feel  that  he  means  what  he  says,  and 
wants  what  he  asks  for.  His  class  of  boys  in  Sunday- 
school  think  the  world  of  him ;  and  it  is  worth  every- 
thing to  them  to  have  such  a  true,  strong  young  man  for 
their  friend  when  they  are  growing  up." 

As  the  young  man  in  question  was  walking  home  with 
his  eldest  sister,  just  after,  he  was  saying :  "  It  seems  to 
me,  Miriam,  an  ordinary  man  like  me  can  be  of  more  real 
use  in  a  new  country  than  in  an  old  State  like  this." 

Real  itse,  in  his  vocabulary,  was  likely  to  mean  use 
that  would  outlast  this  world. 


VIII. 

THE     TEAR     IN     NEW     TOEK. 

THE  same  September  evening  that  Robert  Cameron, 
full  of  Lope  and  resolution,  set  out  for  his  new 
"Western  hfe,  his  sister  Theodora  was  alighting  before  a 
handsome  stone-front  on  Brooklyn  Heights,  much  won- 
dering what  was  to  be  her  fortune  within  those  walls. 
From  the  day  the  plan  was  broached,  Theodora  had 
been  looking  forward  to  her  first  music-lesson  with  dread 
and  hope  and  much  curiosity.  Had  she  really  musical 
talent,  or  did  her  friends  think  so  because  they  knew  no 
better  ? 

"When  the  eventful  day  arrived,  and  her  teacher  was 
ready  to  test  her  voice,  her  throat  was  so  dry  she  could 
hardly  utter  a  sound,  and  she  laid  hold  of  the  piano  to 
keep  herseK  from  shaking  visibly. 

"  Did  I  ask  you  for  a  tremolo  f  ''  demanded  the  mas- 
ter, knitting  his  black  Italian  brows,  and  shaking  his 
heavy  mane.     "  Will  you  now  give  to  me  one  firm  tone  ? " 

His  savage  manner,  instead  of  scaring,  roused  her,  and 
she  did  give  a  firm  tone,  and  went  on,  doing  what  she 
was  bidden. 

"  Agzecrable ! "  he  cried  presently,  clapping  his  hands 
over  his  ears.  "You  have  had  wrong  method.  You 
have  mined  your  voice  ! " 

Her  heart  sank  down  like  a  stone.  It  was  all  in  vain, 
then.     How  disappointed  they  would  be  at  home !    How 

C89) 


90  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STOEY. 

ashamed  she  should  feel,  going  back  to  the  village  choir, 
and  telling  them  why  ! 

He  gave  her  other  exercises,  and  she  sang  them  with 
the  freedom  of  desperation. 

"  When  will  jon  next  come  to  me.  Miss  ? "  he  inquired 
when  the  hour  was  through,  and  she  turned  to  go. 

"  I  '11  not  come  again,"  she  answered  in  some  surprise. 

His  face  darkened.  "  Why  then  came  you  this  once, 
if  you  come  no  more  ?  " 

"  I  wanted  to  learn  to  sing.  K  my  voice  is  ruined,  it  is 
of  no  use." 

"  W'at  did  I  say  ?  Tour  Anglese  language  is  so  strong ! 
Tour  voice  is  seeck,  it  is  not  dead.  I  shall  cure  it.  Tou 
shall  learn  to  sing.  Do  but  w'at  I  tell  you,  you  shall  sing 
like  one  nightingale !  " 

The  heart  of  stone  became  a  heart  of  flesh.  So  she 
went  to  work  in  earnest,  doing  what  he  told  her ;  sometimes 
exasperated  by  his  outrageous  severity,  sometimes  cheered 
through  weary  hours  of  practice  by  the  pleasure  he 
betra^'ed  in  her  success.  From  him,  she  usually  went  to 
her  piano  teacher,  who,  being  an  American,  never  forgot 
that  he  was  a  gentleman  and  she  a  lady,  although  he  was 
master  and  she  pupil.  She  studied  hard  and  practiced 
indefatigably,  yet  her  enthusiasm  was  often  shaded  by 
despair.  She  heard  so  much  fine  music  that  she  was  kept 
in  a  very  lowly  state  as  to  her  own  powers  and  attain- 
ments. But  so  coming  into  the  kingdom  of  heavenly 
harmony  like  a  little  child,  she  was  growing  unawares. 

Mr.  Walton  claimed,  as  a  part  of  the  contract,  that  she 
should  sing  and  play  for  him,  every  day.  To  throw  him- 
self into  a  luxurious  lomiging  chair,  and  listen  to  her  for 
half  an  hour  or  so,  after  dinner,  was  a  delicious  rest  from 
the  intense  activity  of  the  day ;  she  knew  how  deeply  he 


THE    YEAli    IN    NEW    YOKK.  91 

enjoyed  it,  and  solaced  herself  many  a  time  when  she 
was  disheartened,  striving  for  the  unattainable,  with 
thinking,  "  If  I  can  give  such  comfort  and  refreshment  to 
anybody,  I  ought  to  thank  God  and  take  courage." 

At  lirst  she  was  quite  dazed  by  the  apparent  knowledge 
of  people  she  met  in  musical  circles,  but  it  was  not  long 
before  she  observed  that  there  is  quite  as  much  cant  in 
art  as  in  religion,  and  that  a  glib  outflow  of  pet  phrases 
of  ci-iticism  does  not  necessarily  prove  a  discriminating 
and  original  critic. 

Two  hours  of  each  day  were  faithfully  spent,  instilhng 
the  iirst  elements  of  knowledge  into  the  little  Waltons. 
The  youngest  of  these  was  an  affectionate  roley-poley 
little  creature,  much  given  to  hugging  her  papa  and  to 
shocking  her  mamma  with  her  untameable  tongue.  Being 
simple-hearted  as  a  rabbit,  she  was  continually  imposed 
upon  by  her  sister,  a  year  and  a  half  older.  If  Adele  said 
in  a  cajoling  tone,  "  Sissy  would  rather  have  the  nice 
bread  and  butter  than  the  old  plum-cake,  wouldnH  she  ? " 
Lily  woidd  accej)t  the  statement  and  not  dream  of  any 
sinister  motive,  till  she  saw  the  plum-cake  rapidly  disap- 
pearing in  her  sister's  mouth. 

As  for  Adele,  she  did  not  prove  a  precocious  pupil ;  but 
Theodora  observed  that  in  one  art,  she  was  an  adept; 
that  of  managing  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Walton  was  fair,  graceful,  stylish.  When  things 
went  to  please  her  she  was  sweet ;  when  they  went  other- 
wise, she  was  sour.  She  was  fond  of  saying  she  had 
always  had  her  own  way,  and  she  always  meant  to  have  it ; 
a  sufficiently  selfish  and  unreasonable  announcement  for 
any  person  whatever,  in  a  world  like  ours,  but  what  for  a 
disciple  of  the  Master,  whose  first  lesson  is.  Deny  thyself ! 

And  Mrs.  Walton  professed  to  be  a  Christian.     She 


92  THEODORA :  a  home  stoky. 

was  in  the  Jiabit  of  remarking  that  a  Church-member 
must  di'aw  the  hue  somewliere.  Theodora  once  ventured 
to  suggest  that  between  right  and  wrong  might  be  a  good 
place  to  draw  it ;  but  the  reply  was,  that  one  could  never 
tell  M'here  that  was.  So  the  lady  drew  it  between  the 
opera  and  theatre ;  between  dancing  and  cards.  The  idea  of 
drawing  the  line  the  hither  side  of  fretf  ulness,  vanity,  and 
selfish  wilfuhiess  seemed  hardly  to  enter  her  mind.  At 
first,  Theodora  was  simple  enough  to  take  it  for  granted, 
when  she  appeared  silent  and  out  of  sorts,  that  something 
had  happened  to  make  her  so. 

So  when  Mrs.  Walton  fell  into  a  sullen  mood,  the  new 
inmate  of  her  house  would  go  to  her  room,  quite  miser- 
able, and  lay  her  memory  on  the  rack  to  discover  what 
she  had  said  or  done  to  give  such  deep  offense.  In  course 
of  time,  she  learned  that  it  was  Mrs.  Walton's  habit,  if  she 
had  a  backache,  or  a  headache,  or  an  ill-fitting  dress,  or  a 
careless  servant,  to  treat  the  whole  family  as  if  they  were 
responsible  for  it.  So  her  manner  was  liable  to  change, 
in  an  hour,  without  any  known  reason,  from  the  most 
cordial  and  complacent  to  the  cold  and  petulant.  To 
live  with  a  fitful  and  unruled  disposition,  was  a  new 
and  not  useless  disciphne  to  Theodora. 

In  worldly  affairs,  Mr.  Walton  was  considered  a  safe 
though  bold  operator.  In  religion,  he  was  doing  a  large 
business  on  a  small  capital ;  a  dangerous  thing,  Hable  to 
end  in  bankniptcy.  Kind,  liberal,  energetic,  a  bright 
and  fluent  off-hand  speaker,  he  was  a  favorite  worker  in 
the  Church  and  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 

His  Sundays  were  so  full  with  family  prayers — ^for  the 
only  time  during  the  week — morning  service,  evening 
service,  a  class  of  young  ladies  in  the  civilized  Sunday- 
school,  a  class  of  large  boys  at  the  wild  Sunday-school, 


THE   YEAE    IN    KEW    YOKK.  93 

and  the  reading  of  two  or  three  religious  newspapers,  that 
few  moments  were  left  for  the  reading  of  the  Bible  or 
prayer.  Week-days  were  still  more  crowded  ;  so  that  the 
direct  intercourse  of  his  soul  with  its  Sa'sdour  was  hurried 
and  slight. 

Meanwhile,  the  world's  ways  of  action  were  sweeping 
about  him  in  a  mighty  current.  The  result  was  such  as 
any  soul  is  likely  to  reach,  living  in  the  same  way.  The 
spiritual  fervor  which  thrilled  through  his  prayers  and 
exhortations  when  he  was  tirst  converted — the  year  after 
his  going  to  the  city — died  away.  He  was  held  to  Christian 
work  by  habit,  rather  than  by  love  t )  the  Saviour,  or  a 
longing  to  save.  The  mainspring  of  Church  work  became 
an  ambition  to  push  it  beyond  other  Churches.  In  the 
Sunday-school  class  of  young  ladies,  he  found  it  pleasant 
to  be  admired  and  confided  in  ;  with  the  rough  boys  of 
the  Mission-school,  he  was  satisfied  if  he  could  amuse 
them  and  hold  their  attention. 

To  labor  is  not  to  pray. 

Mrs.  Cameron  would  have  found  less  solace  in  the 
thought  that  her  daughter  was  in  a  "  Christian  home,"  if 
she  had  understood  the  tone  of  its  Christianity. 

The  sweetest  time  in  Theodora's  day  was  the  little 
space  between  dressing  and  breakfast,  when  she  sat  with 
her  Bible  in  her  hand  and  the  beautiful  harbor  before  her, 
drinking  in  strength  for  the  day.  One  morning  she  was 
in  her  favorite  place  by  the  broad  window  at  the  back  of 
her  room,  deep  in  peace,  bathing  her  soul  in  beauty  and 
stillness.  She  was  looking  far  across  the  shining  sea,  with  * 
its  twinkling  ripples — down  to  Governor's  Island,  with  its 
great  round  fort,  and  beyond  it,  across  the  light-grey  water, 
to  some  long  blue  line,  which  might  be  either  sky  or  shore. 
Through  the  rigging  of  silent  ships  she  could  see  the  out- 


94  THEODOKA  :    A    HOME    STOKT. 

lines  of  the  Jersey  shore,  one  long  stretch  of  solid  ground, 
Avith  a  crest  of  tree-tops,  and  beyond  it  a  dim,  dreamy 
table-land  of  hills.  Right  opposite  lay  the  great  city,  to 
her  all  motionless  and  majestic,  with  walls  and  spires  and 
bristling  masts — bordered  all  about  with  messengers  from 
every  shore  under  heaven — which  had  folded  their  white 
wings  at  her  feet,  and  stood  waiting  her  pleasure.  Ferry- 
boats were  shooting  like  swift  shuttles,  with  a  silver  thread 
of  foam  behind  them,  weaving  together  the  mainland  and 
Long  Island  shore. 

She  looked  down  upon  the  beauty  and  splendor  of  the 
great  city  and  its  haven,  too  far  above  for  the  din  or  the 
squalor  to  reach  her.  It  seemed  as  if  the  world  must  be 
full  of  peace  and  prosperity. 

At  first  the  great  city  seemed  less  brilliant  and  less 
grand  than  she  had  fancied  it  would.  But  when  her 
imagination  had  once  lighted  on  the  ground,  she  began 
to  enjoy  it  richly.  It  was  such  a  pleasure  to  see,  every 
day,  some  place  or  person  she  had  read  about  in  the  little 
village  among  the  hiUs,  and  be  thrilled  for  herseK  by 
music  and  eloquence  such  as  she  had  only  heard  of  befoi'c. 
Never  did  a  more  eager  pair  of  blue  eyes  scan  the  beau- 
tiful things  and  the  motley  throngs  of  Broadway. 

One  day,  her  piano-teacher  wished  her  to  have  a  piece 
of  music  which  he  had  left  at  the  house  of  another  pupil, 
so  she  went  along  with  him.  They  were  ushered  into  a 
sort  of  library  drawing-room,  and  at  the  same  time  into 
a  delightful  atmosphere  of  home-life.  The  books  looked 
inviting,  the  pictures  and  the  knicknacks  ready  to  teU 
some  interesting  story.  The  spirit  of  the  whole  was 
summed  up  in  the  little  lady  who  turned  from  her  writ- 
ing-desk in  the  bay-window  to  welcome  them.  Mr.  Yan- 
derberg  was  evidently  a  frequent  and  favorite  guest  at 


THE   YEAE   EST    NEW   TOEK.  95 

the  house.  Mrs.  Leighton  insisted  that  they  should  both 
stop  to  hmch,  which  was  just  ready,  so  that  before  she 
knew  it,  Theodora  was  enjoying  keenly  a  new  circle  in  a 
new  home.  The  children  were  intelligent,  eager,  and 
interested  in  whatever  came  up.  You  never  know  a 
person  till  you  see  him  among  children,  and  she  was 
amazed  to  see  the  dignified  and  exacting  Mr.  Yanderberg 
imfold  in  the  most  gracious  fashion  among  these  young 
things,  who  seemed  to  claim  him  as  their  special  visitor. 

"  Your  name.  Miss  Cameron,  has  pleasant  associations 
for  me,"  said  Mrs.  Leighton,  as  they  sat  at  lunch.  "  It 
carries  me  back  to  my  childhood,  on  a  dear  old  Yermont 
farm.  The  Camerons  were  our  nearest  neighbors  and  best 
friends." 

"  Yermont !  Is  it  so  ? "  exclaimed  Theodora,  in  pleasant 
sui"prise.     "  That  is  my  State." 

"  Indeed  ?  Who  knows  but  your  father  is  my  old 
schoolmaster — John  Cameron  !     Where  was  he  bora  ? " 

"  In  Standish ;  and  his  name  is  John ;  he  is  a  minis- 
ter." 

"  Now  isn't  that  deliohtf  id  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Leiajhton, 
shaking  hands  again  across  the  corner  of  the  table,  her 
face  beaming  with  pleasure.  "  Do  ask  him  if  he  remem- 
bers carrying  little  Molly  Ritchie  on  his  back  down  the 
CaldenHill!" 

"  Why — what — tell  me,  mamma,  when  was  that  ? " 
begged  the  little  boy  who  sat  next  her,  patting  her  arm 
impatiently. 

"  Oh,  it  was  when  your  mamma  was  a  wee  bit  toddlin' 
thing,"  she  answered,  laying  her  hand  over  his  and  look- 
ing down  at  him  with  sunny  eyes,  "  and  a  company  of  us 
children  were  playing  in  the  woods — we  heard  a  great 
rustling  in  the  leaves  on  the  ground,  and  somebody  raised 


96  THEODOEA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

the  cry  :  'A  bear ! '  and  the  children  all  began  to  run  as 
fast  as  thej  could.  Everyone  for  himself,  and  the  bear 
take  the  hindmost !  And  the  hindmost  happened  to  be 
^•our  little  mamma,  mj  dear.  I  was  a  round  little 
dumpling,  and  couldn't  get  on  very  fast ;  the  rest  of  the 
children  were  all  leaving  me  behind,  and  I  was  frightened 
almost  to  death.  I  thought  the  bear  would  eat  me  up, 
sure.  I  suppose  Johnny  Cameron  heard  me  cry  ;  at  any 
rate,  he  looked  over  his  shoulder,  and  the  moment  he 
saw  me,  he  came  and  caught  me  up  on  his  back  and  ran 
down  the  hill  with  me.  I  don't  think  I  ever  felt  quite  so 
relieved  and  safe  in  all  my  life  as  I  did  when  he  drew  my 
two  fat  arms  around  his  neck  and  began  to  run  down  that 
hill." 

"  Was  there  really  a  bear  ?  IIow  old  was  Johnny  ? " 
asked  two  of  the  children. 

"  I  suppose  he  was  nine  or  ten  years  old.  There  had 
been  a  report  of  a  bear  seen  by  some  hmiters  in  the 
woods,  but  I  think  likely  there  wasn't  one,  short  of 
Labrador.  It  was  all  the  same  to  us,  though,  as  if  he 
had  been  growling  at  our  heels." 

"  The  story  carries  internal  evidence  that  it  is  the  same 
John  Cameron,"  said  Theodora,  with  a  fond  pride.  "  My 
father  is  just  the  man  to  grow  from  that  boy.  Nobody 
will  be  left  to  the  bears  that  he  can  help." 

''And  he  has  a  young  lady  daughter  like  you !  I 
have  n't  seen  him  since  he  was  of  yom*  age.  How  fast 
time  does  fly,  to  be  sure  !  " 

"  Oh,  there  are  three  of  us  older  than  I,"  said  Theo- 
dora, laughing. 

"Is  it  possible!  You  must  tell  me  all  about  them. 
Mr.  Yanderberg,  you  have  done  a  good  deed  to-day, 
bringing  this  young  lady  here,"  she  said,  as  they  left  the 


THE    YEAE    IN   NEW   YORK.  97 

diuing-room.  "  I  can't  let  you  take  lier  away  with  you ; 
we  must  have  a  good  chat  first." 

It  was  heart-warinino:  to  Theodora  to  talk  of  home  to 
so  interested  a  listener,  and  Mrs.  Leighton  found  it  hardly 
less  so  to  hear  her  weave  descriptions  and  watch  her 
glowing  face  as  she  answered  her  questions  about  every 
member  of  the  family. 

"  Now,  when  will  you  come  again  ? "  said  the  hostess, 
as  she  rose  to  go.  "  Can't  you  come  to  dinner  and  spend 
the  night  the  next  time  you  take  your  lessons  ?  I  want 
you  to  meet  Mr.  Leighton.  And  I  shall  have  another 
catechism  ready  for  you  by  that  time.  You  must  count 
our  house  a  home,  where  you  are  welcome  any  day  and 
any  hour  of  the  day.  We  are  busy  people,  and  cannot 
always  command  our  time  to  visit  with  friends  as  much 
as  we  would  hke ;  but  if  you  will  enjoy  it  to  come  hke 
one  of  ourselves,  and  when  we  are  engaged  amuse  your- 
self with  books  or  the  children,  or  nestle  down  on  a 
lounge  and  rest,  I  should  love  to  have  you.  Come  to 
lunch  or  to  dinner  as  suits  your  convenience,  any 
time." 

Theodora  soon  found  that  this  hospitable  invitation 
was  sincere,  and  going  to  the  Leightons'  became  one  of 
her  chief  pleasures. 

Mr.  Leighton  was  on  the  editorial  corps  of  an  influen- 
tial city  paper — a  man  of  great  information,  decided 
opinions,  and  philanthropic  spirit.  At  their  table,  she 
met  journalists,  reformers,  travelers,  people  with  ideas, 
sometimes  people  with  one  idea,  and  that  a  red-hot  en- 
thusiasm. .She  listened  with  keen  interest  to  their  lively 
discussions  on  politics,  reforms,  speeches,  books.  Both 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Leighton  were  working  to  relieve  the  sin 
and  misery  of  their  fellow-creatures.  The  husband  put 
5 


98  THEODORA  :    A    IIOilE    STOEY. 

his  faith  mainly  in  general  movements  and  measures  of 
justice  and  humanity.  The  wife,  wliile  she  shared  his 
desire  for  these,  felt  deeply  that  the  world  has  to  be  saved 
man  by  man. 

To  a  thoughtful  young  soul,  the  first  contact  with  city 
life  is  far  from  being  all  pleasure.  The  mad  scramble  for 
money  and  place — the  fiendish  subtleties  of  temptation — 
the  crowds  of  children  born  to  an  inheritance  of  vice — 
wretchedness  and  luxury,  mocking  each  other  to  the 
face ; — these  things  oppressed  the  happy  young  heart  like 
a  nightjmare.  Bright  and  hopeful  as  her  spirit  was,  Theo- 
dora was  sometimes  weighed  down  with  this  feeling. 
The  world  seemed  so  hopelessly  big.  and  wicked  ! 

Most  of  the  people  she  met  at  the  Waltons'  seemed  to 
get  along  with  these  disagreeable  facts  by  ignoring  them 
as  none  of  their  business ;  but  that  seemed  the  saddest 
of  all. 

She  liked  better  to  hear  the  Leightons  and  their  visit- 
ors, even  though  the  talk  brought  to  light  suffering  that 
made  her  heart-sick.  At  least  they  were  in  earnest,  try- 
ing to  right  the  wrongs  in  one  way  and  another.  One 
day  at  dinner,  she  had  been  listening  to  an  eloquent 
talker  who  painted  the  corruption  in  high  places  and 
brutality  in  low,  in  such  startling  colors  that  it  seemed 
as  if  nothing  short  of  another  flood  conld  wash  the  old 
earth  clean.  She  went  ujDstairs  with  her  hostess,  quite 
despairing.  As  they  entered  the  drawing-room,  she  no- 
ticed a  lady  waiting,  in  the  bay-window.  She  sat  with 
downcast  eyes,  apparently  lost  in  her  own  thoughts, 
so  that  she  did  not  notice  the  slight  rustle  of  their 
coming  in.  While  Mrs.  Leighton  went  on,  with  a 
pleased  look,  to  speak  with  her,  Theodora  caught  one 
of  those  "  instantaneous  views  "  which  never  fade  from 


THE    YEAR    IN    NEW    YORK.  99 

memory : — a  petite  person,  dressed  in  black,  a  mass  of 
dark,  wavy  hair  about  a  small,  colorless  face  ;  all  the 
features,  except  the  full  lips,  infantine  in  their  delicacy ; 
long  lashes  which  shadow  the  pale  cheek  ;  an  expression 
of  intense  seriousness,  almost  melancholy. 

Mrs.  Leighton  stood  beside  her  before  her  reverie  was 
broken ;  then,  as  if  her  consciousness  came  slowly  out  to 
meet  external  things,  she  raised  her  eyes,  thoughtful, 
hazel  eyes,  so  near-sighted  that  it  was  a  moment,  even 
then,  before  she  recognized  her  friend.  Then  a  beautiful 
light  dawned  in  her  eyes  and  a  faint  color  stole  into  her 
cheeks  as  she  held  out  both  hands  to  meet  Mrs.  Leigh- 
ton's  wann  greeting. 

"  I  have  come  to  see  you  about  my  old  man,"  she  said, 
and  went  on  to  tell  a  touching,  yet  humorous  story,  about 
some  forlorn  old  fellow  who  had  been  living  under  a  few 
boards  knocked  together  for  a  shanty  on  a  vacant  lot,  and 
had  just  been  routed  by  the  police.  Her  voice  was  as 
unique  as  her  face.  Its  modulations  varied  little  from  a 
monotone,  and  yet  there  was  a  silvery  sweetness  in  its 
flow,  an  under-current  of  fervor  in  its  softness,  which 
made  it  as  fascinating  as  her  moonlight  face.  Theodora 
stood  by  the  table,  turning  the  leaves  of  a  book,  too  much 
captivated  by  the  stranger  to  go  away.  Presently  Mrs. 
Leighton  called  her  to  them,  and  introduced  her.  They 
were  devising  some  way  of  relief  for  the  old  man,  and 
tinally  Mrs.  Leighton  said  : 

"  Kow,  Miss  Sara,  I  should  like  to  go  with  you  and 
put  this  in  effect,  but  I  have  another  engagement.  I 
propose  you  take  this  girl  along.  She  can  help  you,  and 
it  will  do  her  good." 

The  girl  went  gladly,  and  this  was  the  first  of  many 
expeditions  in  which  she  saw  much  and  helped  a  little. 


100  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

She  concluded  there  was  a  way  of  puiifying  the  world, 
much  more  hopeful  than  a  deluge. 

She  found  the  new  object  of  her  admiration  was  a 
lady  of  refinement,  who  had  devoted  herself  to  the  work 
of  a  Bible-reader  among  the  poor.  Theodora's  admira- 
tion grew  to  reverence  as  she  saw  how  thoroughly  she 
understood  their  life,  how  she  comforted  the  sick ;  how 
she  counseled  half-distracted  mothers ;  how  her  lowly 
friends  relied  upon  her  judgment  and  trusted  in  her  tiTith ; 
how  she  turned  her  untlinchiug  conscience  on  their  lives 
as  on  her  own  ;  and  yet  they  accepted  its  chiding  because 
its  voice  was  love  ;  how  the  riches  of  her  Bible  knowl- 
edge put  unbelief  to  shame ;  how  she  held  young  chil- 
dren spell-bound  with  the  sweet  story  of  old ;  how  the 
intrepid  little  creature,  strong  in  faith,  went  into  haunts 
where  few  gentlemen  would  venture  without  an  escort 
of  police,  winning  her  way  like  a  moonbeam  or  a  west- 
ern wind.  For  the  sake  of  breaking  down  all  barriers 
between  herself  and  her  people,  she  had  planted  herself, 
for  the  present,  in  their  midst. 

The  first  time  Theodora  followed  her  up  the  dreaiy 
stairs  of  the  tenement-house,  to  her  bare,  comfortless 
room,  the  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes,  and  she  turned  to  her 
appeal  ingly. 

"  This  has  been  a  palace  where  I  have  seen  the  King 
in  His  beauty ! "  answered  Miss  Sara,  with  a  heavenly 
smile.  • 

We  pass  through  many  unconscious  crises  in  our  lives. 
Neither  of  the  three  was  distinctly  aware  of  it,  but  the 
presence  of  this  stranger  in  their  house  stayed  a  current 
which  had  begun  to  di-ift  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jack  Walton 
apart. 


THE   TEAE    IN    NEW    YOKK.  101 

There  are  Avomen  who  are  blessed  with  the  gift  of  mak- 
ing hfe  run  smoothly.  They  have  the  intuition  to  speak 
the  one  word  that  will  straighten  out  a  misunderstanding 
— to  keep  silence  when  ruffled  feelings  need  only  to  be 
let  alone — to  sprinkle  a  little  balm  on  self-respect  when 
it  has  been  mortified — to  look  comprehension  when  one 
is  unappreciated.  They  are  thinking  of  others  rather 
than  themselves. 

Other  women  there  are  who  possess  the  gift  of  friction. 
As  if  by  instinct,  they  throw  in  the  one  word  that  will 
irritate — they  are  sure  to  take  things  a  little  differently 
from  the  way  they  were  meant — their  vanity  exposes  a 
surface  to  be  wounded  wherever  you  touch. 

From  a  two-years'  pull  with  a  yoke-fellow  of  the  last 
description,  Mr.  Walton  was  somewhat  tired.  A  slight 
but  constant  galling  was  likely  to  make  either  a  sore  or  a 
callous  place  in  his  heart.  He  was  affectionate  and  im- 
seLfish — just  the  man  to  delight  in  home.  The  small, 
contmual  jar  in  his  domestic  happiness  irked  him  miser- 
ably, but  he  had  not  the  least  diplomacy  to  prevent  it. 

If  it  had  ever  occurred  to  Mrs.  Walton  that  the  fine 
gold  of  her  husband's  love  was  becoming  somewhat 
dimmed,  she  would  have  blamed  no  one  but  him.  It 
was  her  way  not  to  find  fault  with  herself  for  being  irri- 
tated, but  with  him  for  iiTitating  her.  She  felt  about 
marriage  as  some  people  do  about  conversion — the  matter 
was  settled  once  for  all,  and  there  was  nothing  further  to 
gain  or  lose. 

In  the  early  part  of  their  married  life,  he  had  been 
constantly  trying  to  surprise  her  with  something  that 
would  give  her  pleasure  ;  but  she  so  often  received  his 
presents  with  a  "Why,  Jack,  what  do  you  suppose  I 
want  of  this  ? "  or,  "  I  do  wish,  Mr.  Walton,  you  would 


102  THEODORA  I    A    HOME   STORY. 

let  uie  select  my  own  dresses ! "  that  he  had  nearly 
ceased  giving  her  anything  but  money.  She  knew  what 
she  wanted,  and  if  he  would  only  let  her  have  money  and 
freedom,  could  suit  herself.  That  love  could  throw  value 
into  a  gift,  or  a  project,  which  they  did  not  possess  in 
themselves,  seemed  never  to  enter  her  mind.  She  took 
pride  in  saying  there  was  no  romance  about  her.  Ilcr 
husband's  daily  life,  and  hers  as  well,  would  have  been 
much  happier  if  there  had  been  some. 

That  Winter,  there  was  felt  in  the  house  an  element 
of  cheerful,  every-day  patience,  of  gentle,  womanly  tact, 
which  had  been  wanting  there.  Without  carina:  to  ask 
the  reason,  Mr.  Walton  felt  that  his  home  was  happier. 
That  gave  him  more  forbearance  for  liis  wife's  fretful 
moods,  and  she,  in  consequence,  fretted  less. 


IX. 

BEN     WALTON. 

"  "r^  O  I  hold  the  boat  steady  enough  ? " 

1  J  "Almost.  If  jou  can  keep  it  straight  with 
that  white  birch  for  about  five  minutes,  I  will  be  done. 
Does  it  tii-e  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  no ;  I  had  grown  quite  proud  of  my  skill  in 
making  '  The  Swan '  cut  the  water.  JSTow  I  like  to  see  if 
I  can  keep  her  still,  as  well.'' 

For  a  few  minutes  the  girl  who  held  the  oars  was 
quietly  intent,  with  her  eyes  directed  to  the  "  Lady  of 
the  Forest,"  which  gleamed  out  from  the  green  of  the 
cedars — lightly  dipping  the  blades  just  enough  to  keep 
the  boat  from  swaying  to  a  lazy  eddy  in  the  lake. 

The  young  man  seated  in  the  stern  was  rapidly  draw- 
ing, often  glancing  up,  then  back  to  tlie  sketch-book  on 
his  knee, 

"  There  !  "  he  said,  at  last,  holding  it  up,  and  looking 
at  it  with  a  pleased  smile.  "  I  won't  trouble  you  to  keep 
so  still  any  longer," 

"  Just  as  if  it  were  any  effort  for  me  to  keep  still !  But 
I  am  to  be  paid  with  the  picture,  you  know.  So  hand  it 
over,  please." 

"  I  couldn't  possibly  let  you  have  this  picture.  Miss 
Theo.,"  he  said,  still  gazing  at  it  with  a  dreamy  expres- 
sion of  deep  content. 

"  But  that's  not  fair.  I  held  the  boat  still  for  you  to 
sketch    Whiteface.     You  needn't   say   the  sketch   isn't 

'a03) 


lOi  THEODORA :  A  iio:me  stoet. 

pretty  enough,  for  joii  look  amazingly  pleased  with  it 
yourself." 

"  I  am.  It  is  not  j^retty  enough  for  the  original,  but 
it  is  far  too  pretty  for  me  to  part  with." 

"  What  a  selfish  speech ! "  she  said,  as  she  laid  the  oars 
in  rest  and  held  out  her  hands  for  the  book,  which  he 
passed  her.  When  she  looked  at  it,  she  bent  her  head 
till  her  broad-rimmed  hat  shaded  her  eyes  fi-oni  the 
draughtsman.  Instead  of  the  scene  she  expected,  she 
found  on  the  page  a  maiden  in  a  little  boat,  oars  lightly 
poised  in  her  hands,  sprays  of  partridge-vine  trailing 
from  her  hat  to  her  shoulder,  her  happy  eyes  looking  into 
the  distance,  her  mouth  just  ready  to  smile.     It  was 

"  A  face  in  which  did  meet 
Sweet  records,  promises  as  sweet." 

"  You  fraud !  "  she  exclaimed,  throwing  off  her  con- 
fusion with  a  laugh.  "  You  have  made  all  that  glorious 
range  of  momitains  nothing  but  a  background  for  this 
girl!" 

"  Exactly  !"  answered  the  young  gentleman,  with  a  suf- 
ficiently expressive  gaze  at  her.  "  I  must  di'aw  things  as 
I  see  them,  you  know." 

The  point  was  so  suddenly  turned  that  she  had  no  an- 
swer ready.  She  handed  back  the  sketch-book,  and  seiz- 
ing the  oars,  sent  the  little  boat  shooting  far  out  into  the 
lake.  Vigorous  exercise  is  death  to  sentiment.  Her  op- 
posite neighbor,  however,  had  nothing  to  do  but  sit  lean- 
ing gracefully  with  his  arm  on  his  knee  and  admii'e  her 
heightened  color. 

"  Don't  you  feel  guilty  for  cheating  me  so  ? "  she  said 
at  last,  with  a  saucy  glance,  glancing  away  no  less  quick- 
ly when  she  met  the  look  fixed  upon  her.     "  I  was  to 


BEN   WALTON.  105 

have  that  sketch  for  a  memento,  and  now  if  1  have  to  go 
away  without  it,  I  shall  forget  all  about  these  rows  on  the 
lake  and  the  lovely  sunsets  with  the  mountains  in  front  of 
them." 

"  So  you  expect  to  forget  all  the  good  talks  we  have 
had,  and  the  songs  you  have  sung  me,  and  the  poetry  I 
have  read  you  in  this  little  boat  ? "  he  asked,  reproach- 
fully. 

"  Most  hkely  I  shall,  unless  I  have  the  picture  of 
Whiteface  to  remind  me,''  she  answei'ed,  with  a  wiKul 
smile. 

"  I  wish  I  had  as  convenient  a  memory,"  said  the  young 
gentleman,  looking  with  a  desperately  melancholy  expres- 
sion towards  Lakeside  Lodge. 

"  Oh,  see  !  "  exclaimed  Theodora,  quite  ready  to  create 
a  diversion.  "  The  evening  star  is  peeping  right  thi-ough 
the  blush  of  the  sunset !  " 

Ben  Walton  turned  to  the  west,  without  speaking. 
The  evening  was  rare  and  lovely.  Lake  Champlain,  with 
its  shores,  was  one  dream  of  beauty  ;  but  he  was  thinking 
very  little  about  that.  His  eyes  fell  from  the  shell-like 
tints  of  the  twilight  sky  and  the  magnificence  of  moun- 
tains to  the  glowing  young  face  before  him.  The  wavy 
brown  hair  about  it  was  loosened,  the  cheeks  were  flushed, 
the  large  blue  eyes  at  their  darkest,  the  lips  looked  soft 
and  full  as  she  gazed  into  the  beautiful  west.  Although 
she  seemed  lost  in  admiration,  her  firm  and  shapely  hands 
still  dipped  and  feathered  the  oars  with  a  light  and 
steady  motion.  He  would  have  given  half  his  fortune 
to  know  how  that  girl  felt  towards  him,  and  yet  he  dared 
not  put  it  to  the  proof. 

When  a  letter  from  his  brother  had  come,  saying  that 
Miss  Cameron  was  kind  enough  to  take  charge  of  the  lit- 
5* 


106  THEODORA:    A   HOME    STORT. 

tie  girls  for  the  Summer  at  Lakeside  Lodge,  so  that  their 
mother  could  go  to  Newport  and  he  could  stay  in  Kew 
York,  this  young  gentleman  had  been  rather  annoyed. 
She  would  expect  some  attention  from  him,  and  it  would 
be  a  bother.  If  it  had  been  that  other  Miss  Cameron  it 
would  have  done  very  well ;  she  was  pretty  and  graceful. 

"  Isn't  she  a  charming  girl  ? "  his  mother  had  said  to 
him,  the  day  after  she  came. 

"  Really,  mother,  I  could  not  say  that,"  answered  Mr. 
Ben,  dusting  his  shining  boots,  "  but  she  is  immensely 
improved  since  she  was  here  last  Summer.  A  year  in  the 
city  is  a  great  thing  for  a  young  lady  brought  up  in  the 
country." 

Indifference  is  the  cheapest  kind  of  superiority.  Fear- 
less as  her  spirits  usually  were,  the  new-comer  felt  some- 
what daunted,  at  first,  by  this  young  gentleman,  who  re- 
garded with  an  indulgent  smile  things  which  roused  her 
warmest  admiration.  She  felt  that  she  must  be  very 
ignorant  to  enjoy  life  so  keenly,  and  be  so  easily  impress- 
ed or  amused.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before  he  fell 
into  the  habit  of  loitering  beside  her  as  she  went  up  and 
down  the  garden  paths  after  breakfast,  culling  flowers  for 
the  house.  When  they  were  gathered,  and  she  sat  on  the 
steps  of  the  back  veranda,  with  an  array  of  vases  and 
heaps  of  buds  and  blossoms  on  the  floor  beside  her,  it 
was  important  for  him  to  sit  by  in  a  garden  chair  so  that 
when  she  had  arranged  some  dainty  device  with  her  dexter- 
ous fingers,  tipping  her  head  this  way  and  that  to  get  the 
effect,  and  held  it  up  to  ask,  "  Is  it  pretty  ?  "  he  could  an- 
swer her. 

Then  it  was  only  polite  to  ask  her  to  go  with  him, 
when  he  drove  into  the  village  for  the  mail,  she  was  so 
fond  of  that  ride  through  the  woods. 


BEN    WALTON.  107 

Somehow,  her  practice-hours  were  broken  in  upon 
many  times  a  day.  Even  when  she  conjured  Mr.  Ben  to 
keep  out  of  the  way,  so  that  she  could  "  shriek "  her 
vocal  exercises  without  fear, he  would  becoming  back  for 
one  thing  and  another. 

As  the  midsummer  heat  came  on,  the  two  found  it  de- 
hciously  cool  and  otherwise  delightful  to  spend  the  hours 
between  sunset  and  dark  in  a  little  boat  on  the  lake. 
Usually  Theodora  rowed,  as  she  was  found  of  the  exercise 
and  her  companion  was  not.  He  liked  better  to  sit,  with 
a  lazy  grace,  in  the  stern  and  watch  her  while  they  talked. 
Often  she  let  the  skiff  float  over  the  liquid  sunset  beneath 
them  while  she  sang,  or  he  repeated  some  poet's  story. 

Before  the  Summer  was  through,  young  Walton  woke 
to  find  that  a  certain  presence  had  enchanted  the  rooms  of 
his  old  home — the  garden — the  lake — the  fragrant  woods, 
with  its  atmosphere  of  subtle  sympathy  and  elastic 
strength.  He  began  to  look  back  with  superior  scorn  on 
all  the  "  boyish  fancies  "  he  had  entertained  before,  and  say 
to  himself  with  a  certain  exultation,  "  This  is  love  in 
earnest !  "  To  feel  a  grand  passion  was  part  of  being  a 
full-grown  man,  and  Twenty-two  wishes  to  lack  nothing 
which  manhood  expeiiences.  Besides,  Ben  Walton  was 
something  of  a  poet  in  his  way,  and  a  poet's  education  is 
incomplete  till  he  has  been  really  in  love.  He  had 
plenty  of  leisure  to  cultivate  the  tender  passion,  for  he 
had  not  yet  set  himseK  at  any  particular  work  in  life. 

Ben  Walton's  fii-st  year  in  college  had  been  the  wretch- 
ed existence  of  a  petted  mother-boy,  whom  the  paternal 
sophomores  felt  it  their  special  duty  to  toughen.  By  the 
second  year,  he  was  ready  to  prove  himself  initiated  in  the 
ways  of  the  world  to  such  an  extent  that  the  faculty  sent 
him  home  for  six  weeks  of  reflection.     The  third  year  he 


108  xnEODORA :  a  home  stoky. 

came  under  the  power  of  a  great  revival  of  religiou  in 
college,  and  shone  brightly,  for  a  while,  as  a  convert. 
Though  his  zeal  subsided  with  the  excitement,  he  led  a 
more  conscientious  life  thereafter.  The  fourth  year,  he 
was  adopted  into  a  coterie  of  students,  most  of  them  city 
bred  and  wealthy,  who  devoted  themselves  to  belles-let- 
ters and  the  social  graces,  to  the  contempt  of  the  regular 
course.  The  professors  insisted  that  more  work  should 
be  done.  Young  Walton  thought  he  could  direct  his 
studies  more  satisfactorily  than  they  could.  His  health 
was  not  perfect — thanks  to  his  sophomore  excesses — and 
he  left  college  without  graduating.  It  seemed  to  him 
and  his  friends  that  some  brilliant  destiny  must  be  re- 
served for  him,  but  exactly  what,  was  not  yet  revealed. 

He  wrote  with  grace,  if  not  originality,  and  some  of 
his  poetical  scraps  had  found  favor  with  fii"st-class  maga- 
zines. He  rather  thought  journalism  might  be  his 
calling.  He  had  also  a  gift  with  the  pencil,  and  was  fond 
of  haunting  studios  when  in  the  city.  He  sometimes 
suspected  that  only  cultivation  was  needed  to  unfold  in 
him  a  genius  for  art.  He  heard  no  distinct  vocation 
towards  either  of  the  professions.  Business  he  thought 
sordid.  He  said  to  himself  there  was  no  hurry  about 
deciding  the  matter.  He  was  not  obliged  to  make  money. 
There  was  no  reason  he  should  not  pursue  his  own  culture 
in  any  way  he  pleased.  He  liked  tliis  life,  which  left 
him  free  to  gratify  his  tastes. 

Unfortunately,  his  father  differed  from  him ;  as  fathers 
sometimes  will  from  the  most  enlightened  young  men. 

Mr.  Walton  had  that  almost  superstitious  respect  for 
hterary  aequu'ements  which  often  marks  men  who  have 
been  obliged  to  make  then-  way  without  them.  He  stood 
a  little  in  awe  of  this  boy,  who  tossed  off  so  lightly  his 


BEN    WALTON.  109 

judgments  upon  subjects  wliicli  be  bimself  knew  notbing 
about.  Still,  to  go  on  cultivating  oneseK  witbout  any  defi- 
nite aim,  looked  to  bim  like  unproductive  consumption .  If 
knowledge  was  power,  be  argued  tbat  an  educated  man 
ougbt  to  put  bis  sboulder  to  tbe  wlieel  and  give  tbe 
stronger  life.  Waltonville  in  general,  lield  tbe  same 
ideas.  Finally,  as  a  concession  to  tbese  disagreeably 
practical  views,  Mr.  Ben  bad  entered  bis  name  in  a 
pbysician's  office  in  Burlington,  and  occasionally  read  a 
cbapter  in  Anatomy.  But  be  did  it  witb  distaste.  His 
life  was  growing  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable,  wben  Tbeo- 
dora  Cameron  broke  in  upon  it  like  a  strain  of  music 
upon  tbe  rattle  of  wbeels  in  a  street. 


X. 


SHALL      SHE     RECANT? 

THINGS  had  come  to  a  crisis.  For  the  first  time 
our  young  ladv  had  been  told  that  the  whole  happi- 
ness of  a  man's  life  was  hers  to  make  perfect  or  to  kill. 
Being  inexperienced,  she  beheved  it. 

It  was  near  midnight  now,  but  she  was  sitting  at  the 
open  window  of  her  room.  The  Lake  twinkled  in  the 
moonlight.  The  sweetness  of  heliotrope  and  mignonette 
came  up  from  the  garden.  No  association  is  so  subtle  as 
that  of  perfume.  It  brought  back  every  look  and  tone 
and  emotion  of  that  talk,  the  evening  before,  when  they 
were  resting  on  a  garden-seat,  coming  up  from  the  boat- 
house. 

He  had  pleaded  for  her  love  as  for  his  life.  She  felt, 
again,  the  chill  of  agitation  that  had  shaken  lier  as  he  be- 
gan. She  wondered  at  herself,  to  remember  how  every 
drop  of  feeling  for  him  had  ebbed  out  of  her  heart  as 
he  went  on.  All  but  pity.  She  had  never  liked  him  so 
little.  The  dehcious  curiosity,  "  How  much  does  he  care 
for  me  ?  "  which  makes  half  the  charm  of  incipient  coiu't- 
ship,  had  held  her  up  to  that  moment.  When  she  saw 
that  she  was  all  the  world  to  him,  she  seemed  to  care 
nothing  more  about  him.  Was  not  that  cruel  and  heart- 
less ?  She  did  not  like  it  in  herself.  Besides,  it  had  been 
lonesome  to-day.  Having  love  so  near,  roused  her  whole 
nature  to  long  for  it.  A  real  grief  became  him.  He 
was  bearing  it  well,  and  he  had  never  appeared  so  manly 
aio) 


SHALL    SHE    RECANT  ?  Ill 

in  lier  eyes.  She  had  never  liked  him  so  vrell  as  the  day 
after  she  had  rejected  him.     No  very  rare  experience. 

A  hesitating  tap  at  her  door  broke  in  upon  her  troubled 
thoughts.  She  opened  it  and  saw  Mrs.  Walton,  who 
had  bid  her  good-night  three  hours  before.  She  had 
thrown  a  wrapper  over  her  night-dress,  and  carried  in 
her  hand  a  small  silver  candlestick  whi  h  always  stood  on 
the  commode  by  her  bedside.  By  the  faint  light  of  the 
candle,  Theodora  thought  her  lovely  face  looked  paler 
and  older  than  she  had  ever  seen  it  before.  With  a 
trembling  heart,  she  drew  forward  a  rocking-chair  for 
her  and  seated  herself  at  her  feet.  Did  she  know  about 
it  then?  Why  need  he  tell  her  !  "  For  the  same  reason 
as  I  should  tell  my  mother  if  I  had  her  here,"  she  said  to 
herself;  and  still  she  felt  diss.iti&fiid  as  if  it  was  a  man's 
part  to  keep  his  troubles  to  himself. 

"  I  could  not  sleep  and  I  thought  perhaps  I  might  find 
you  awake."  There  was  a  slight  embarrassment  in  her 
manner  which  the  girl  could  not  bear  to  see.  She  felt 
ashamed  that  she  should  disturb  the  gentle  queenliness  of 
this  woman,  whom  she  loved  and  admired  so  much. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  my  son  would  say  if  he  knew  of 
my  coming  here ;  but  I  cannot  see  him  suffer  and  do 
nothing.  I  suppose  he  would  not  have  told  his  mother, 
but  he  can  keep  nothing  from  me.  I  know  him  too 
well." 

Theodora  did  not  know  how  to  speak.  She  slipped 
her  hand  into  that  soft,  white,  wrinkled  hand  which  wore 
the  wedding  ring,  and  said  softly : 

"  Can  you  forgive  me,  Mrs.  Walton  ? " 

''  I  cannot  think  you  quite  know  your  own  heart,  my 
dear,"  said  the  mother,  clasping  her  hand,  kindly.  "  You 
beemed  happy  with  us,  this  Summer  ?  " 


112  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

"  Indeed  I  have  been  very  bappj ! "  she  answered, 
looking  lip  gratefully. 

"  Why  shouldn't  you  be  for  a  longer  time — for  always  ? " 

How  could  she  talk  about  it  with  his  mother  ! 

"  I  don't  feel  towards  him  as  he  says  he  does  towards 
me,"  she  answered,  with  her  head  bent  low,  trying  to  take 
the  offence  from  the  words  by  the  gentleness  of  the 
tone. 

"  Yery  likely ;  but  that  is  no  sign  you  never  will.  I 
have  been  telling  him  he  ought  not  to  have  pressed 
you  for  an  immediate  answer.  lie  must  give  you 
time." 

Theodora  did  not  believe  time  would  make  any  differ- 
ence, but  she  could  not  say  so  to  her.  After  all,  how  did 
she  know  'i  Had  not  her  heart  relented,  as  she  had  been 
sitting  there,  in  the  moonlight,  living  over  aU  the  dehght- 
f ul  days  of  their  acquaintance  ;  above  all,  this  last  day, 
when  the  dignity  of  a  self-contained  sorrow  had  touched 
her  with  a  new  respect  for  him  ?  It  would  be  so  sweet 
to  love,  if  one  only  could  ! 

"  Kow  that  you  know  how  his  heart  is  set  upon  you,  it 
surely  cannot  be  very  hard  to  learn  to  love  him,"  said  the 
mother  with  a  pale  smile,  which  went  to  her  heart.  She 
could  not  imagine  how  any  girl  could  help  loving  her  Ben. 
"  Some  mothers  dread  to  have  their  children  man-ied," 
she  went  on,  for  Theodora  dared  not  answer  her  last 
remark ;  "  but  for  my  part,  I  want  to  see  my  sons  happy. 
I  never  cared  to  have  them  find  a  fortune  with  a  wife, 
but  I  do  want  them  to  have  a  fortune  in  a  wife. 

"  I  feel,  Theo.,  that  you  would  make  my  boy  just  such 
a  mate  as  he  needs." 

Theodora  hid  her  face  in  the  mother's  lap.  Every 
word  of  praise  from  her  was  precious,  she  loved   and 


Sn^U.L    SHE   KECAJiTT  ?  113 

revered  her  so  mucli,  and   this   unexpected  confidence 
toiielied  her  to  the  quick. 

"  You  have  just  the  energy  and  will  and  practical 
earnestness  to  go  with  his  poetical,  sensitive  tempera- 
ment," said  Mrs.  Walton,  laying  her  hand  on  the  head  in 
her  lap.  "  Let  me  tell  liim  that  you  will  think  of  it,  my 
dear." 

"  But,  dear  Mrs.  Walton,  if  it  should  end  in  the  same 
way,  that  would  only  make  it  worse." 

"  But  I  cannot  think  it  is  to  end  so.  I  believe  you 
were  made  for  each  other." 

"  Shouldn't  I  feel  it  within  me,  if  it  were  so  ? " 

"Perhaps  not,  at  first.  Love  will  grow.  I  have 
known  so  many  doubtful  engagements  to  end  in  happy 
marriages.  It  isn't  necessary  to  go  into  any  transports. 
Perhaps  you  are  fonder  of  him,  now,  than  you  are  aware 
of.  You  have  certainly  seemed  to  enjoy  his  society  as 
well  as  he  yours." 

Was  that  meant  for  a  reproof  ?  It  was  said  so  pleas- 
antly, that  she  could  not  tliink  so ;  but  it  brought  back  a 
disagi'eeable  remark  of  some  gossip  which  Mrs.  Rodgers 
had  repeated  to  her,  that  "  Theodora  Cameron  either  was, 
or  ought  to  be,  engaged  to  Ben  Walton."  She  resented 
it  at  the  time  ;  but  did  his  mother  think  she  had  cherished 
his  love  for  her  only  to  crush  it  ?  She  had  never  had  a 
thought  of  responsibility  about  it.  He  had  always 
seemed  more  than  equal  to  taking  care  of  his  own  heart, 
and  she  had  not  seen  it  was  coming  to  this. 

"  You  can  hardly  know  how  much  pain  you  have 
given,"  said  Mrs.  Walton,  very  gently,  stroking  her  hair. 
"  Say  you  will  think  better  of  it,  and  make  us  all  happy." 

"  Indeed,  I  would  if  I  could  ! "  the  girl  answered,  with 
a  sob  of  real  distress.     "  But  how  can  I,  if  I  do  not  really 


114  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   8T0EY. 

love  him !  It  would  be  wronging  him  just  as  much  as 
myself." 

"  Leave  it,  my  child ;  leave  it  undecided.  You  are 
agitated  now."  She  had  fallen  to  crying,  though  she 
tried  hard  to  control  herself.  "  You  do  not  know  your- 
seK.  There  is  no  need  of  such  haste.  You  arc  to  be 
with  us  two  weeks  more,  anyway,  before  Florence  comes 
to  take  the  children  off  your  hands.  Let  it  be  an  open 
question  till  then.     Let  me  tell  him  it  shall  be." 

"But  if  —  " 

"  Yes,  even  if.  He  must  take  the  nsk  of  that.  If  he 
chooses  to  do  so,  you  are  willing  ?  May  I  say  that  you 
take  back  your  answer,  and  give  none  until  you  go 
away '{ " 

She  raised  her  head  and  wiped  her  tears,  but  she  felt 
faint  and  perplexed.  "If  you  think  best,"  she  said, 
at  last.     "  I  don't  know  what  I  ought  to  do." 

"  I  do  think  best.  That's  a  dear  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Wal- 
ton, leaning  over  to  kiss  her,  with  a  happy  look,  as  if  it 
was  all  settled.  "I  am  sure  you  won't  regret  it,  and  my 
poor  boy  will  be  so  thankful." 

Theodora  smiled  slightly  in  response,  but  she  was  not 
sure  she  should  not  regret  it.  Still,  she  was  used  to  mak- 
ing people  happy,  used  to  being  guided  by  a  wiser  head 
than  her  own,  and  she  hoped  she  had  done  right. 

"  The  time  may  come  when  you  will  thank  me  for  pre- 
venting you  from  throwing  away  such  a  —  "  "  chance  " 
would  have  been  the  vulgar  word  ;  but  Mrs.  Walton  did 
not  finish  the  sentence.  The  next  thing  she  said  was 
more  fortunate.  As  she  rose  to  go,  she  stood  for  a,  mo- 
ment smoothing  away  the  expression  of  hurt  pride  her 
last  words  had  called  up  by  fondling  the  young  girl.  She 
had  a  great  charm  for  Theodora,  and  she  knew  it.     She 


! 


SHALL    SHE   RECANT  *  115 

drew  her  into  her  ai*ms,  and  said :  "  I  have  sometimes 
told  jon,  dear,  how  I  longed  for  a  daughter.  I  could 
love  this  dear  child  to  my  heart's  content,  if  she  should 
be  mine." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  "Walton,  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart !  '' 
she  answered,  throwing  her  arms  around  her  neck,  and 
kissing  her  ardently. 

"  Now  go  to  sleep,"  said  the  lady,  with  a  good-night 
kiss,  taking  up  the  little  silver  candlestick  again.  "  You 
will  find,  one  of  these  days,  it  is  somebody  else  you  love 
with  all  your  heart — *iot  the  old  mother." 

She  smiled  and  nodded  cheerfully  as  she  drew  the  door 
quietly  together,  and  then  Theodora  heard  her  garments 
trailing  softly  along  the  hall  to  the  door  of  her  son's 
room.     So,  she  had  gone  to  tell  him  before  she  slept ! 

She  hardly  knew  whether  to  be  glad  or  sorry.  That 
day  had  taught  her  that  she  cared  quite  too  much  for 
Ben  "Walton  to  give  him  up  without  pam.  Then  there 
was  so  much  to  give  up  beside  his  proper  self  !  A  para- 
dise of  a  home — an  independent  fortune — that  mother, 
her  ideal  lady — that  brother,  who  had  been  so  generous 
to  her.  She  would  have  scorned  the  baseness  of  selling 
herself  to  a  man  she  did  not  love ;  but  all  these  things 
made  it  desirable  to  love  him.  Perhaps  she  expected  too 
much  of  herself.  The  Summer  had  overflowed  with 
pleasure.  Could  she  analyze  it,  and  trace  it  to  its  separ- 
ate sources  ?  One  thing  was  certain — he  was  associated 
with  it  all.  To  see  those  nonchalant  airs  melt  away  on 
the  side  towards  her,  till  it  was  visibly  in  her  power  to 
make  him  happy  or  miserable  by  a  word,  had  been,  to 
say  the  least,  interesting.  To  believe,  as  he  assured  her, 
that  his  destiny  and  all  his  hopes  lay  in  her  hands,  made 
her  heart  tremble.     She  could  not  bear  to  sever  liis  life 


116  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STOET. 

from  hers  forever.     Did  she  love  him,  then  ?     Mrs.  "Wal- 
ton said  that  love  would  grow. 

When  she  closed  her  eyes,  at  last,  to  sleep,  it  was  with 
a  satisfied  feeling  that  perhaps  all  her  happy  days  in  that 
delightful  home  were  not  over,  after  all. 


XI. 


A     DECISION. 


THEODOKA  dreaded  to  meet  the  famil;^  next 
morning.  She  had  put  herself  in  an  embarrassing 
position.  But  she  found  the  breakfast-room  full  of  the 
fragrance  of  the  honeysuckles  which  were  looking  in  the 
wmdows,  the  table  glittering  with  silver  and  glass,  Mrs. 
"Walton  as  easy  in  her  graceful  sociability  as  if  nothing 
had  happened,  and  Mr.  Walton — who  had  no  idea  that 
anything  had  happened — ready  with  his  patronizing  little 
joke,  as  usual.  An  exquisite  morsel  of  a  bouquet  beside 
her  plate  was  the  only  reminder  of  her  recantation.  She 
dared  not  meet  the  eyes  of  her  opposite  neighbor,  and 
felt  her  cheeks  flush  crimson  when  Adele  broke  out : 

"  Seems  to  me  Uncle  Ben  is  wonderfully  smart  this 
morning !  He  doesn't  generally  get  to  breakfast  till  we 
are  half  through,  and  this  morning  he  was  out  in  the 
garden  before  the  bell  rang." 

"  Mother,  do  make  that  child  keep  still,  and  eat  her 
breakfast !  She  is  getting  to  be  an  intolerable  chatter- 
box," remarked  Mr,  Ben,  with  disgust. 

"  Don't  you  hear  wheels  on  the  drive  ?"  asked  Theo- 
dora, glad  of  a  diversion. 

The  next  moment  the  door  of  the  room  was  thrown 
open,  and  a  young  lady  ushered  herself  in  with  the  air 
of  one  giving  a  delightful  sui'prise.  She  was  tall  and 
dark — with  broad  shoulders,  and  an   amazingly  slender 

(117) 


118  THEODOEA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

Avaist.     Her  dress  was  marked  by  the  newest  oddities  of 
fashion. 

"  Flora  Van  Eitter !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  "Walton,  setting 
down  the  coffee-cup  she  had  raised  half-way  to  her  lips. 
"  Where  did  yon  come  from  ?" 

"  Came  from  the  historic  shores  of  Plattsburg,  to  be 
sure !  Didn't  you  notice  the  boat  gave  an  uncommonly 
loud  whistle  this  morning  ?  That  was  because  I  was 
aboard.  Haven't  I  been  through  tire  and  flood  to  reach 
you  at  this  hour  of  the  day  ?  Don't  rise  !  Don't  let  me 
be  the  slip  'twixt  the  cup  and  the  lip.  Just  give  me  a  kiss. 
There,  now  finish  your  coffee.  How  are  you,  Mr.  Wal- 
ton ?  I  declare,  you  look  younger  every  time  I  come. 
Good-morning,  Ben.  Bless  me  !  How  pale  and  intel- 
lectual-looking you  are  growing!  Writing  an  epic?  You 
must  know,  Mrs.  Walton,  I  was  going  to  see  you,  and 
then  I  had  business.  Imagine  it  !"  spreading  out  her 
hands,  and  rolling  up  her  eyes,  "  I  have  come  on  busi- 
ness. You  have  not  the  remotest  idea  of  the  dire  trib- 
ulations the  Van  Ritter  family  have  passed  through. 
'  Fox's  Book  of  Martyi's  '  would  give  you  only  a  shadow, 
a  shade,  a  faint  intimation  of  it." 

"  Do  strengthen  yourseK  with  a  muffin  and  a  cup  of 
coffee  before  you  unfold  your  tale,"  said  Mrs.  Walton, 
who  had  another  plate  laid. 

"  Miss  Van  Ritter,  Miss  Cameron."  It  was  the  first 
time  the  new-comer  had  paused  long  enough  to  allow  an 
introduction. 

She  bowed  low,  ejaculating  "  Miss  Cameron ;"  then 
sank  into  the  chair  next  Mr.  Ben. 

"  I  am  tired  to  death — just  at  the  last  gasp !"  she  ex- 
claimed, but  she  revived  sufficiently  to  give,  between  sips 
of  coffee,  a  melo-dramatic  description  of  family  trials  in 
the  way  of  servants. 


A    DECISION,  119 

"  And  now,  mamma  has  sent  me  to  yon.  She  says 
yon  always  have  a  retinne  of  people  to  provide  for ; 

"  '  Some  in  rags  and  some  in  tags, 
And  some  in  velvet  gowns.' 

Don't  you  know  some  young  lady  of  an  angelic  turn  of 
mind  who  could  be  persuaded  to  take  up  her  abode  in 
our  kitchen — for  a  consideration  ?  Produce  the  young 
female,  and  all  the  Yan  Ritters,  in  succession,  will  go 
down  on  their  knees  before  her,  if  necessary  to  soften  her 
obdurate  heart,  and  persuade  her  to  come.  I  don't  know 
as  mamma  had  intended  to  give  her  the  'oery  best  sleeping 
room,  but  there's  no  knowing  what  she  might  come  to. 
I  dare  say,  papa  will  be  happy  to  put  the  carriage  at  her 
service  whenever  she  wishes  to  attend  the  Holy  Catholic 
Church.  She  can  have  eight  evenings  of  the  week  out, 
and  hold  a  soiree  in  our  kitchen  the  rest  of  the  nights." 

After  considerable  canvassing,  the  desired  damsel  was 
found,  and  forwarded  to  Plattsburg,  Miss  Van  Ritter 
being  easily  persuaded  to  stay  a  week  or  two  at  Lakeside 
Lodge. 

Young  "Walton  shrugged  his  shoulders  ungraciously  on 
hearing  this,  but  remarked  that  she  was  a  stylish  girl  and 
treated  her  very  politely. 

Theodora,  though  she  did  not  like  her  very  well,  was 
heartily  glad  of  her  coming.  It  prevented  tete-a-tetes 
which  would  have  been  awkward,  in  the  circumstances. 
She  soon  observed  that  the  voluble  young  lady  was  not 
simply  herself  —  she  was  Judge  Yan  Ritter's  daughter, 
and  was  treated  with  the  consideration  due  to  her  family. 

One  day  while  she  was  giving  Ad^le  a  music-lesson, 
Mrs.  Walton  and  Miss  Yan  Ritter  were  sitting  in  the 
room. 


120  THEODOKA  :    A   HOME   STOEY. 

"  Let  me  send  over  for  Mr.  Raymond  to  join  in  your 
picnic,  Wednesday,"  said  the  hostess,  who  was  always 
thinking  of  pleasant  things  to  do  for  her  young  people. 

"  Alas,  Mrs.  "Walton,  Mr.  Eaymond  is  a  thing  of  the 
past !" 
. "  Is  it  so  ?  I  really  thought  that  would  prove  a  match." 

"  Of  all  sad  words — etc. !" 

"  Xo.  There  was  an  awful  impecuniosity  in  the  case, 
Mrs.  Walton.  That  was  all  the  trouble.  Raymond  is  a 
splendid  fellow.  I  have  no  idea  I  shall  ever  like  any- 
body else  as  well.  But  what  could  I  do  ?  I  wasn't  going 
to  make  a  fool  of  myself  by  marrying  a  man  that  couldn't 
support  me.  He  was  sure  he  should  make  his  fortune  in 
time,  and  begged  me  to  wait  and  see — but  bless  you  !  I 
should  be  in  the  sere  and  yellow  leaf  before  that.  He  is 
just  a  young  lawyer  without  a  cent  to  bless  himself  with, 
except  what  he  makes  himself." 

"  Is  he  promising  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  indeed.  Father  thinks  he  is  rather  remark- 
able. But  then,  there  are  so  many  lawyers,  it  takes  for 
ever  to  get  started.  Ah,  well,"  exclaimed  Miss  Flora 
with  a  yawn ;  "  it  is  a  shockingly  mixed-up  world.  What 
a  pity  that  nice  people  can't  have  the  nice  things  !" 

"And  Mr.  Raymond  %oas  nice,  I  thought,  when  I  met 
him  at  your  house.     I  fancied  you  thought  so,  too." 

"  Indeed,  I  did  —  and  he  knows  it,  too.  I  told  him 
once  I  would  marry  him  in  a  minute,  if  he  only  had 
money  enough.  But  he  has  been  rather  hateful  since  it 
was  over.  He  takes  such  pains  not  to  meet  me^  I  think 
that  is  rathei-  ungentlemanly,  when  he  knows  I  like  him 
so  well,  too.  He  ought  not  to  have  expected  I  would  be 
silly  enough  to  think  I  could  live  on  love  and  moon- 
shine." 


A   DECISION.  121 

Adelc  was  bliindeving,  and  tlie  music-teaclier's  atten- 
tion was  demanded,  but  slie  had  taken  up  wannly  for  the 
unknown  Eaymond.  The  next  remark  she  noticed  was  : 
"  No,  Mrs.  Walton,  when  you  hear  I  ajn  a  Mrs.  you  may 
know  I  mamed  for  money." 

"  Oh,  no,  my  dear  ;  I  do  not  believe  you  would  quite 
do  that." 

"  I  wouldn't  marry  anyone  I  did  not  respect  and  like, 
of  course ;  but  it  must  be  somebody  who  can  give  me  the 
comforts  of  life.  Love  in  a  cottage  is  all  very  fine  in  a 
story  or  a  song,  but  for  practical  use,  give  me  less  love 
and  more  house." 

Theodora  fervently  hoped  some  rich  blue-beard  would 
marry  her  and  bring  her  to  repentance,  while  the  young 
lawyer  should  rise  in  fame  and  fortune.  She  had  often 
heard  of  young  hearts  crossed  by  the  prudent  foresight  of 
parents,  but  a  girl  of  twenty  deliberately  announcing 
herself  in  the  market  to  be  bought  for  money  was  a 
repulsive  novelty  to  her.  She  was  glad  to  notice  that 
Miss  Yan  Ritter  seemed  moody  and  out  of  spirits  all  the 
morning.  She  had  enough  heart,  at  least,  to  be  made 
a  little  uncomfortable  by  giving  up  the  man  she  would 
marry  in  a  minute  if  he  had  only  plenty  of  money. 

"  The  worldly,  mercenary  girl !  "  thought  Theodora. 
Suddenly  her  conscience  turned  upon  her : — 'Are  you 
so  very  sure  that  you  have  nothing  in  common  with  her  ? ' 
— '  I  would  never  give  up  the  man  I  loved  because  he 
had  his  own  way  to  make — ^never ! '  '  But  wouldn't  you 
give  up  Ben  Walton,  if  there  was  nothing  but  his  very 
self  ? '  '  No ! '  she  made  indignant  answer  to  her  con- 
science, '  it  is  because  I  like  his  very  self  so  much  that  I 
hesitate.'  Still  Conscience  has  an  unpleasant  way  of  fix- 
ing its  eyes  upon  us,  even  after  we  have  silenced  it. 
6 


122  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOKV. 

She  was  glad  to  get  quite  away  from  Lakeside  Lodge 
and  all  tlie  family  that  afternoon  to  make  a  parting  \'isit 
to  old  Mrs.  Rodgers,  Robert's  friend.  She  was  one  of 
those  accommodating  talkers  who  only  need  to  be  wonnd 
np  occasionally,  like  a  music-box,  to  go  on  and  on,  (juite 
satisfied  with  a  laugh,  a  Yes,  or  a  'No,  from  the  otlier 
side.  The  little  old  lady  had  no  idea  how  much  was 
going  on  behind  the  face  turned  towards  her  so  attentively. 
The  fortnight  of  suspense  was  almost  at  its  end.  Among 
many  gay  and  pleasant  hours,  it  had  seen  the  most 
wi'etched  also  which  this  girl  had  ever  known.  The 
miserable  perplexity  of  not  knowing  her  own  mind  had 
harrassed  and  humiliated  her.  It  was  unexpected.  She 
had  always  fancied  that  if  she  ever  met  the  "  man  of 
men  "  for  her,  she  should  know  him  at  sight.  But  here 
she  had  been  for  a  whole  foiinight  unable  to  get  her  own 
heart's  consent  to  say  either  Yea  or  Nay  to  young  AYal- 
ton. 

His  mother  said  no  one  was  perfect — a  romantic  young 
girl  was  apt  to  expect  too  much  at  first.  She  did  not 
want  anybody  perfect ;  she  did  want  somebody  she  could 
love  as  much  as  it  was  in  her  to  love.  Perhaps  she  was 
unreasonable.  She  wanted  to  feel  all  the  rapture  of  love 
which  poetry  and  romance  and  her  own  nature  had 
promised  her  as  one  of  the  chief  joys  of  life.  But  Mrs. 
"Walton  said  it  was  "  not  necessary  to  feel  any  trans- 
ports." 

It  was  only  needful  to  worry  her  heart  down  from 
these  extravagant  demands,  in  order  to  be  happy  in  this 
lover  and  aU  he  could  give  her.  If  he  did  not  quite 
satisfy  her,  could  she  not  make  it  up  with  laces  and  silks, 
and  pictm*es,  and  travel,  and  horses,  and  ground  ?  She 
could  not  but  see  that  she  had  great  power  over  him. 


A   DECISION.  123 

Perhaps  lie  might  become  all  that  she  could  ask.  She 
covild  not  think  of  disappointing  him  without  keen  pain. 

"  In  the  cool  of  the  day"  she  said  good-bye  to  the  kind- 
hearted  Mrs.  Rodgers,  whose  jokes  about  Walton  stung 
her  intolerably  in  her  perplexity.  She  was  thankful  to 
have  the  long,  quiet  walk  through  the  woods  alone,  and 
said  to  herself  the  thing  should  be  decided  before  she 
reached  home.     So  it  was. 

As  she  passed  along  the  village  street,  she  exchanged 
cordial  greetings  with  neighbors  sitting  in  their  doors  for 
a  chat  after  the  warm  day's  work.  She  always  liked  to 
catch  the  Rembrandt  picture  through  the  doors  of  the 
blacksmith's  shop,  which  stood  as  outpost  to  the  village. 
Once  beyond  that,  the  road  hid  itself  between  the  trees, 
so  that  not  a  house  could  be  seen.  A  broad  brook  came 
dashing  out  of  the  woods  on  its  way  to  the  Lake,  and  was 
spanned  by  a  rude  bridge,  well  flanked  by  willows.  She 
stood,  leaning  on  the  side  of  the  bridge,  watching  the 
amber  water  dash  itself  to  crystals  against  the  great 
stones,  and  thinking  how  much  had  come  into  her  life 
since  she  fii'st  stood  there  with  Robert,  a  year  before. 
Then  Lakeside  Lodge,  yonder,  had  seemed  like  an  en- 
chanted castle,  where  everything  was  beautiful,  and  the 
happy  inmates  had  whatever  they  wanted.  Suddenly,  a 
step  on  the  bridge  broke  in  upon  her  sweet  and  bitter 
fancies.  She  did  not  look  up,  for  she  knew  well  enough 
who  it  was,  and  her  heart  quailed  at  the  thought  of  that 
long  walk  home.  Yet  she  liked  it,  that  he  had  come  for 
her.  She  knew  the  hand  that  rested  on  the  rail  of  the 
bridge  beside  hers.  She  had  always  thought  it  too  white 
for  a  man's.  She  noticed  above  the  seal-ring,  which  he 
always  wore,  a  new  gold  one,  and  wished  he  would  not 
wear  it ;  two  rings  looked  womanish. 


124  THEODOKA  :    A    HOME   STORY. 

"  I  am  afraid  there  is  sometliing  of  the  witch  about 
me,"  she  said  ;  "  I  find  it  so  hard  to  cross  ninning 
water." 

"  There  is  something  bewitching,  at  all  events.  Let 
me  put  this  where  it  wants  to  go — in  your  hat — may 
I?" 

He  had  a  beautiful  cluster  of  scarlet  "  bunch-berries," 
with  their  cheerful  green  leaves.  She  bent  her  head 
towards  him,  and  his  fingers  seemed  in  no  haste  to  finish 
their  pleasant  task. 

"  Pray,  where  did  you  find  those  ? "  she  asked,  mean- 
while. "  You  do  not  like  the  same  places  that  bunch- 
berries  do.  You  like  a  gravelled  path  or  the  grassy  road- 
side— not  the  rough  w^oods." 

He  looked  annoyed.  "  Don't  you  like  a  smooth  path 
better  than  rocks  and  brambles  \  " 

"  Not  always.  I  like  to  clamber  over  the  rocks  and 
break  my  way  through  the  brambles." 

There  was  a  jariing  consciousness  in  both  that  they 
were  speaking  in  parables.  The  difference  they  had  ex- 
pressed was  a  real  and  a  deep  one. 

"  I  came  along  the  good  hard  path,  as  became  a  reason- 
able man,  instead  of  tearing  through  the  woods.  But 
you  lingered  so  long  with  the  captivating  Mrs.  Kodgers, 
that  I  grew  tired  of  waiting.  The  walk  home  J  had 
counted  upon  as  the  only  good  chance  to  see  you  away 
from  the  ubiquitous  Miss  Van  Kitter.  So  I  strayed  into 
the  woods  a  Uttle  way,  and  came  across  these  pretty 
corals.     They  are  very  becoming,  I  assure  you  !  " 

"  You  see,  I  loitered  to  say  good-bye  to  the  brook,  as 
well  as  the  widow." 

"  ISTot  a  long  good-bye !  We  shall  come  here  together 
many  a  time,  I  hope." 


A   DECISION.  125 

Elis  clieek  flushed.  She  saw  hhn  turn  that  ring  on  his 
little  finger.  A  large,  beautiful  pearl  was  the  real  back 
of  it.  He  drew  it  quickly  off,  saying,  in  the  voice  of  one 
who  has  waited  as  long  as  he  can  bear : 

"  Theo. !  Let  me  out  of  this  purgatory  of  waiting  ! 
Give  me  leave  to  put  this  on  your  finger." 

He  took  her  hand  gently,  asking  leave  with  his  eyes 
yet  more  earnestly  than  with  his  voice. 

"  'No,  my  friend,"  she  said  softly,  drawing  away  her 
hand.     "  It  can  never  be." 

Her  face  grew  pale  and  her  heart  beat  hard  as  she  said 
it.  Clanging  blows  rang  from  the  blacksmith's  shop  be- 
yond the  trees.  A  swallow  whirred  out  from  the  willows 
and  skimmed  the  water. 

'■'■  Never  !  You  do  not  mean  that  ?  This  is  not  abso- 
lute— final  %  "  he  said,  looking  at  her  hke  one  who  heai"s 
his  sentence  and  cannot  beheve  it. 

"  Final  and  absolute !"  she  answered,  sadly,  with  a 
world  of  kind  regret,  but  not  a  gleam  of  relenting  in  her 
eyes. 

He  snapped  the  beautiful  ring  into  the  brook. 

She  smiled  forlornly,  somewhere  in  her  mind  thinking 
he  would  be  sorry  for  that  the  next  time  the  village 
urchins  went  in  wading. 

She  turned  from  the  side  of  the  bridge,  and  he  walked 
beside  her  as  one  walks  in  a  dream.  It  was  a  return  very 
different  from  this  that  he  had  pictured  to  himself  as  he 
waited  for  her. 

That  night,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Jack  "Walton  came  home. 
The  lady  had  received  much  attention  at  ISTew^Dort,  and 
was  in  a  complacent  mood  toward  everybody.  She  pet- 
ted the  children,  and  praised  Theodora  for  their  improve- 
ment. 


126  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

Mr.  Walton  was  bappy  as  a  l)oy  let  loose  from  school, 
and  seemed  to  take  peculiar  delight  in  teasing  his  brothei*. 
Theodora  had  to  use  all  her  tact  to  defend  him  from 
jokes  about  her  which  were  unwittingly  savage. 

The  children  were  wild  with  joy.  Mr.  Walton,  the 
father,  was  pleased  to  have  his  family  all  about  him,  and 
the  house  was  full  of  cheerful  stir.  Theodora  was  to 
leave  the  next  day.  She  hoped  Mrs.  Walton  would  not 
know  her  decision  till  she  was  gone,  but,  looking  up  sud- 
denly, she  caught  a  grieved  glance  resting  upon  her  which 
convinced  her  those  quick  motherly  eyes  had  penetrated 
the  secret.  The  look  went  through  her  with  a  pang.  It 
is  hard  for  a  mother  to  forgive  a  girl  who  refuses  tlie  heart 
she  counts  more  precious  than  worlds.  What  would  Mr. 
Jack  think  when  he  knew  she  had  repaid  his  generous 
kindness  by  gi^^ng  his  brother  so  much  trouble  ? 

It  seemed  the  only  natural  thing  for  Ben  to  take  her 
to  the  railroad  station  the  next  morning,  and  she  pro- 
posed the  children  should  go  too,  much  to  their  delight. 
They  had  no  idea  how  useful  they  were. 

The  young  man  tried  bravely  to  put  on  his  old  air  of 
indifference,  and  to  do  the  last  little  acts  of  sei'vice  for 
her,  as  if  he  had  never  craved  the  life-long  care  of  her. 
Possibly  some  keen  observer  in  the  train  might  have 
guessed  from  the  two  pale  faces  and  the  silent  hand-clasp 
of  good-bye  that  a  history  lay  behind. 

And  so  it  was  all  over.  Was  it  ?  !N'o.  When  two 
souls  come  so  near  together  as  theirs  had  done,  it  is  never 
all  over.  They  may  drift  out  of  sight  of  each  other ;  the 
last  gleam  of  love  may  die  away  ;  they  may  even  cease  to 
think  of  one  another ;  but  it  is  not  all  over.  Whatever 
passed  from  the  one  spirit  into  the  other,  in  that  brief 
contact,  must  abide.     Ti^th  wrought  into  the  soul  by 


A  DECISION.  127 

suffering  is  a  part  of  it  thenceforth.  Strength  won  by 
self -conquest  outlasts  the  strain  and  soreness  of  the  strug- 
gle. Sorrow  had  closed  the  door  on  their  long  bright 
Summer,  and  neither  of  them  knew  that  she  had  left 
them  choicer  gifts  than  joj  would  have  brought. 

Hitherto,  young  Walton  had  played  with  life.  Kow 
love  had  wakened  his  soul  to  feel  its  realities.  All  the 
manhood  in  him  was  roused  by  the  bitter  tonic  of  pain. 
To  find  himseK  incapable  of  satisfying  the  girl  of  his 
choice,  sobered  and  humbled  him.  He  had  been  too  sin- 
cerely in  love  to  lay  it  all  to  bad  taste  that  she  had 
refused  him.  To  himself  and — what  was  harder- — ^to  his 
sympathetic  mother,  he  justified  her.  She  had  not  meant 
to  wound  him.     She  would  have  loved  him  if  she  could. 

The  earnestness  of  the  nature  which  had  taken  such 
hold  on  his,  made  vapid  the  dilletcmte  pursuits  which  had 
been  his  pride.  He  began  to  look  up  to  the  rustics  around 
him  who  were  doing  some  solid  work  in  the  world,  in- 
stead of  looking  down  upon  them.  From  dreams  of  what 
he  might  do  if  he  should  try,  he  came  down  to  the  less 
complacent  level  of  trying  to  do  something.  His  irreso- 
lute, seK-indulgent  natm-e,  was  nerved  and  steadied  by 
the  constant  test — "  What  would  she  say  ? "  He  chose 
the  most  hopeful  among  his  gifts,  and  set  to  work  with 
it.  After  six  months  of  faithful  study  and  effort,  he  gave 
up,  with  a  smile  of  seK-scorn,  all  hopes  of  becoming  a 
great  painter,  quite  content  to  become  a  successful  de- 
signer of  engravings. 

Four  years  after,  Theodora  happened  to  be  lookmg 
over  an  illustrated  magazine  with  Flora  Van  Hitter. 

"  That  is  a  pretty  picture,"  said  Miss  Flora,  "  but  what 
is  the  sense  of  its  name — '  The  awakening '  ?  "  It  was  a 
rustic  bridge  over  a  foaming  stream  bordered  by  willows. 


128  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STORY, 

A  youiig  man  and  maiden  stood  on  the  bridge,  and  he 
seemed  trying  to  put  a  ring  on  her  finger,  "which  she 
seemed  to  refuse.  They  looked  for  the  designer's  name, 
but  it  was  omitted. 

As  for  Theodora,  she  had  found  out  through  this  pass- 
age of  experience  how  little,  after  all,  she  cared  for  all 
the  elegancies  and  outside  advantages  of  life,  compared 
with  the  one  grand  simple  pleasure  of  living  with  one 
whose  character  she  could  wholly  reverence  and  love. 
Among  the  bewildering  voices  in  her  heart,  she  had  lis- 
tened in  the  final  moment  to  that  which  called  for  perfect 
truth.  To  give  herself  away  with  anything  less  than  her 
whole  heart  would  have  been  a  treachery ;  it  would  have 
planted  an  insincerity  at  the  centre  and  transposed  her 
whole  hfe  to  a  lower  key.  To  bind  herself  to  another 
unless  it  was  a  deep,  unquestioned  joy  to  do  it,  would 
have  been,  for  her,  a  lie.  To  a  less  ardent,  worshipful 
nature  the  sort  of  feeling  she  had  for  "Walton  might  have 
been  enough ;  but  when  her  soul  caught  sight  of  the  jew- 
eled fetter,  it  recoiled  and  protested  that  was  never  meant 
to  be  its  strongest  passion.  It  was  Love,  more  than  the 
lover,  that  had  fascinated  her. 

That  "  ]^o  "  of  Theodora's  was  an  oath  of  fidelity  to 
her  highest  ideals.  It  pledged  her  to  truth.  That  gi-eat 
love  she  had  been  roused  to  hunger  for,  might  never  be 
given  to  her  heart ;  it  should  never  be  mocked,  at  least, 
with  any  tantalizing  counterfeits.  It  should  have  "  the 
whole  loaf  or  no  bread." 

Nothing  teaches  a  young  soul  to  stand  alone  like  being 
forced  to  decide  a  great  life-question  for  itself — some- 
thing where  no  one  can  advise  because  the  premises  for 
judgment  lie  within  itseK.      Theodora   Cameron  felt, 


I 


A  DECISION.  129 

when  she  returned  to  her  father's  house,  that  the  girl  had 
come  back  a  woman.  There  is  but  one  Friend  who  can 
know  the  whole,  and  the  future  with  the  present.  In 
Him  she  had  confided  as  never  before,  and  out  of  that 
confiding  had  grown  a  new  faith  and  love. 


XII. 

A     CHANGE     OF     SCENE. 

THEODOKA  CAMEKON  is  kneeling  before  an 
open  window,  with  her  chin  in  her  hands,  her 
elbows  on  the  window-sill,  looking  down  on  the  Ohio 
River.  Right  opposite  lies  Zane's  Island,  long  and  low, 
dotted  with  houses  and  lines  of  sentinel  poplars.  Beyond 
the  island,  rise  the  green  Ohio  hills,  not  bold  and  rugged 
like  those  she  sees  from  her  chamber  window  at  home,  but 
holding  fruitful  fields  to  the  sun  on  their  smoothly  turn- 
ed shoulders.  His  work  for  the  day  is  done,  and  he  is 
pouring  a  flood  of  rosy  haze  down  the  valley  between 
them,  as  he  goes  to  his  rest.  It  tinges  our  Theodora's 
happy  face  with  its  glow.  A  little  to  the  south,  a  grace- 
ful suspension  bridge  knits  the  island  to  the  Virginia 
shore ;  its  towers  of  dark  sandstone  look  like  triumphal 
arches,  and  the  network  of  cables,  which  holds  its  thou- 
sand feet  of  length  in  air,  seems  thrown  over  them  for 
the  beauty  of  their  curves. 

Beyond  the  bridge,  she  sees  the  river  flowing  down, 
past  the  smoky  city  on  the  hither  shore,  past  the 
island,  between  jutting  hills,  till  it  loses  itself  in  the 
misty  distance.  Around  yonder  point  comes  a  white 
steamboat,  with  her  long  black  smoke-plume  floating  from 
her  head ;  here  lies  a  coal-barge,  and  there  two  canoe-like 
skiffs  ai'e  trying  their  speed  ;  like  a  stranger  to  them  aU, 
a  little  sail-boat,  with  two  passengers,  is  skimming  along, 
its  canvas  touched  with  the  rose-color  of  sunset. 
(130) 


A   CHANGE   OF    SCENE-  131 

But  what  is  Theodora  doing  in  this  Virginia  city  ? 

We  must  go  back  a  little.  About  once  in  five  years 
there  was  high  rejoicing  in  the  Rockbridge  Parsonage 
over  a  visit  from  "  Uncle  Graham  and  Aunt  Margaret  " 
— known  to  the  world  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Graham  Bi-adley. 
Margaret  was  Mr.  Cameron's  sister,  who  had  married  a 
gentleman  many  years  her  senior,  and  had  gone  to  live 
near  Wheeling,  Virginia,  which  seemed  further  off  from 
the  homestead  then  than  California  now. 

Separation  did  not  chill  the  love  of  brother  and  sister, 
and  their  children  early  learned  to  share  it. 

It  is  a  curious  thing  about  growing  up,  to  see  which  of 
childhood's  admirations  will  stand  the  test  of  maturer 
judgment.  It  is  forlorn  to  meet,  in  later  years,  the  hero 
of  your  boyhood  and  find  him  a  coarse,  good-natured 
braggart,  or  to  discover  that  the  lady  whom  you  used  to 
venerate  like  a  fairy  god-mother,  is  only  a  fussy  woman 
with  sugar-plums  in  her  pocket.  On  the  other  hand,  how 
delightful  it  is  to  admire  our  early  favorites  the  more,  the 
more  sense  we  have  to  appreciate  them  !  This  happiness, 
Donald,  Theodora,  and  Faith  were  enjoying,  in  a  visit 
from  "  Uncle  Graham  and  Aunt  Margaret,"  the  latter 
part  of  the  Summer  which  brought  Theodora  home  from 
Waltonville.  Of  the  other  children,  Miriam  was  too  old 
and  Jessie  too  young,  to  feel  it  so  strongly.  Robert  was 
away. 

"  One  of  natm-e's  noblemen ! "  was  apt  to  be  the 
finisliing  phrase,  when  people  tried  to  describe  Mr. 
Bradley. 

A  stalwart  form — a  face  of  homely  dignity — ^a  vigorous 
mind,  enriched  from  observation  rather  than  fi'om  books — 
unbounded  generosity — tenderness  for  the  weak  and  suffer- 
ing, whether  brute  or  hiunan — self-respect  that  would 


132  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

meet  a  king  on  the  simple  ground  of  manhood — intoler- 
ant contempt  for  meanness  and  mean  men — a  rare  mea&- 
nre  of  that  chivalrous  honesty  which  best  deserves  the 
name  of  honor ;  if  Nature  deems  a  man  mixed  of  such 
elements,  worthy  her  accdlade,  then  the  title  was  well 
bestowed. 

He  had  abeady  rounded  out  his  threescore  years  and 
ten, — 

"  And  that  whicli  should  accomgany  old  age, 
As  honor,  love,  obedience,  troops  of  friends," 

were  his. 

The  young  Camerons  puzzled  themselves  discussing  the 
likeness  and  uulikeness  between  then*  father  and  his  sister. 

"  After  all,"  said  Miriam,  "  the  main  difference  is,  that 
he  is  a  man  and  she  is  a  woman.  It  is  just  like  the  dif- 
ference in  their  looks — they  are  both  built  on  a  gi-and  plan, 
but  she  is  fair  and  he  is  dark." 

"  That's  true  enough,"  said  Donald,  "  but  besides  that, 
she's  more  jolly  and  he's  more  intellectual." 

" '  Jolly  r     What  a  word  to  apply  to  either  of  them !" 

"  "VYell,  then,  you  will  say  it  comes  nearer  applying  to 
her  than  him." 

"  Perhaps  so ;  but  he  has  the  shrewdest  -wit,"  said  Miri- 
am, who  never  yielded  a  point  where  her  father  was  con- 
cerned. 

"  I  think  they  are  made  of  the  same  ingredients,  com- 
bined in  different  proportions,"  announced  Faith. 

"  You  talk  about  them  as  if  they  were  mince-meat  or 
pound-cake,"  said  Theodora.  "  I  tliink  it  is  line  to  hear 
tliem  call  each  other  '  John '  and  '  Margaret,'  and  talk  over 
old  times." 

One  evening  Theodora  had  been  playing  and  singing 
for  them. 


A   CHANGE    OF    SCENE.  133 

"  That  reminds  me,"  said  Mr.  Bradley.  "  The  day  be- 
fore I  left  Wheeling,  my  friend  Torrington  said  to  me, 
'  I  wish  if  you  are  going  East,  you  would  find  a  music- 
teacher  for  my  children.'  He  said  they  had  a  good  deal 
of  taste  for  music,  both  the  boy  and  the  girl,  and  his  wife 
was  anxious  to  have  them  well  taught.  If  they  could 
find  a  teacher  they  really  liked,  they  would  take  her  into 
the  family  for  the  sake  of  having  her  look  after  their 
habits  of  playing.  He  said  there  were  quite  a  number  of 
his  friends  who  wanted  better  instruction  for  their 
children,  and  if  I  could  find  an  accomplished  teacher,  they 
could  make  up  a  fine  class  for  her.  Now,  why  isn't  this 
the  very  young  lady  ? " 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  answer  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  You  are  up  to  all  the  modern  improve- 
ments, are  you  not  ?  Margaret,  you  know  more  about 
these  things  than  I  do — don't  you  think  she  would  suit 
them  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  should  think  so,  exactly." 

"  Let  me  tell  you,  uncle  ;  you  don't  want  to  recommend 
your  niece  without  being  sure.  What  if  you  suggest  my 
name,  get  him  to  write  to  my  teachers  in  l^ew  York,  and 
then,  if  their  opinion  is  satisfactory,  ask  me  to  come." 

"  We  will  do  that  without  delay,  so  that  we  can  take 
you  back  with  us,  if  all  goes  well." 

"  What  sort  of  a  family  is  this  ?  I  don't  know  as  we 
will  let  you  carry  her  off,"  said  Mr.  Cameron. 

"  Mr.  Torrington  comes  from  one  of  the  old  F.  F.  Y's. 
He  is  a  very  sensible  man  ;  one  of  our  very  best  lawyers." 

"He  is  an  elder  in  the  Presbyterian  church,"  added 
Mrs.  Bradley,  "  and  his  children  are  better  drilled  in  the 
Assembly's  '  Shorter  Catechism '  than  yours  are,  I'll 
warrant." 


134  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

"What  sort  of  a  lady  is  his  wafe?"  asked  Mrs. 
Cameron. 

"  I  am  very  slightly  acquainted  with  her.  I  know  she 
is  a  beautiful  singer,  and  very  much  of  a  lady." 

"  She  is  a  fine-looking  woman — a  Marion,  from  South 
Carolina,"  added  Mr.  Bradley,  who  never  felt  informed 
about  people  till  he  knew  what  blood  they  came  of. 

"  They  are  not  slaveholders,  I  hope,"  said  Mr.  Cam- 
eron. "  I  should  not  be  willing  to  have  one  of  my 
children  live  in  a  slaveholding  family." 

"No.  There's  nothing  in  their  principles  to  prevent 
it ;  but  Mr.  Torrington  knows  that  such  property  is  an 
unsafe  investment,  so  near  the  border.  They  believe  in 
the  patriarchal  institution,  its  indispensableness,  and  all 
the  rest  of  it ;  but  I  suppose  your  daughter  is  so  well  in- 
doctrinated, you  would  not  be  afraid  of  their  perverting 
her  ideas." 

"  How  came  you,  such  a  staunch  anti-slavery  man,  to 
be  on  such  intimate  terms  with  him  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  must  needs  go  out  of  my  world  if  I  made  no 
friends  who  differed  with  me  on  that  subject.  All  these 
forty  years  I  have  lived  in  Virginia  I  have  had  only  two 
or  three  neighbors  who  agreed  with  me  in  my  anti-slavery 
views." 

"  I  will  tell  you,  John,  how  Mr.  Torrington  and  my 
husband  came  to  be  great  friends,  in  the  first  place,"  said 
Mrs.  Bradley.  "  It  was  through  a  law-suit,  where  Mr. 
Torrington  was  counsel.  Mr.  Bradley  was  bondsman  for 
a  friend  of  his — cashier  of  a  savings  bank — who  proved  a 
defaulter.  There  was,  somehow,  a  good-sized  loop-hole 
of  the  law  that  he  might  have  crept  through,  and  escaped 
paying  several  thousand  dollars ;  but  he  wouldn't  do  it. 
He  said  it  was  better  he  should  lose  it  than  the  poor 


A   CHANGE   OF   SCENE.  135 

people  who  liad  trusted  their  savings  in  the  hands  of  his 
friend.  Mr.  Torrington  never  forgets  that.  He  says 
Mr.  Bradley  is  a  man  after  his  own  heart." 

"  He  can't  think  any  more  highly  of  me  than  I  do  of 
him,"  said  Mr.  Bradley.  "He  is  a  thoroughbred  gentle- 
man.    I  think  it  would  be  a  capital  place  for  Theodora." 

Everything  proved  satisfactoiy.  Professor  Brunelli 
praised  his  pupil  in  quite  as  extravagant  terms  as  he  had 
ever  scolded  her,  while  Mr.  Yanderberg  vouched  for  her 
in  terais  she  valued  yet  more.  Mr.  Torrington's  offers 
were  fair — the  prospect  for  a  good  class  flattering. 

Theodora  was  very  happy  in  the  plan.  She  was  elated 
by  the  thought  that  she  should  no  longer  be  drawing  on 
the  slender  family  purse,  and  there  would  be  all  the 
more  for  the  three  children  still  dependent  on  it. 

The  journey  was  full  of  pleasure  for  her.  Beyond 
'New  York,  it  was  all  new.  It  was  one  of  those  times  in 
the  year  when  the  American  public  are  flitting  and  trains 
are  crowded.  So  it  was  often  impossible  for  the  three  to 
sit  together. 

"  Do  take  this  seat  with  Aunt  Margaret,  and  let  me 
go  and  find  a  place  in  the  next  car,"  said  Theodora,  who 
could  not  bear  to  have  so  old  a  gentleman  as  her  uncle 
discommoded  for  her. 

"  Ko,  indeed,  my  dear.  You  must  not  teach  me  to 
forget  my  gallantry."  And  he  never  did  forget  it.  As 
she  traveled  with  him,  and  spent  weeks  in  his  house,  she 
saw  that  the  politeness  towards  women  which  so  many 
men  cherish,  as  Hudibras  his  wit, 

"  As  being  loth  to  wear  it  out, 
And  therefore  bear  it  not  about, 
Unless  on  holydays,  or  so, 
As  men  their  best  apparel  do,"  »• 


136  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STORT. 

he  held  not  too  costly  to  be  expended  every  day  on  his 
own  wife  and  daughters. 

He  managed  to  get  well  paid,  however,  for  hunting  up 
a  seat  with  a  stranger,  and  was  almost  sure  to  come  back 
with  some  remarkable  fact  he  had  learned.  He  was  one 
of  those  people  blessed  with  the  faculty  of  turning  up  in- 
formation from  the  imlikeHest  soil.  The  stupidest  person 
has  his  own  point  of  view  for  his  dim  look-out  on  the 
world,  and  sees  something  which  does  not  come  exactly 
within  the  range  of  his  next  neighbor ;  and  Mr.  Bradley 
could  hardly  be  set  down  beside  any  man  without  getting 
out  of  him  this  something.  Theodora  had  been  remark- 
ing on  this  power  of  his. 

"  Give  me  a  coal-heaver  or  a  philosopher,"  said  he ;  "a 
pagan,  Mohammedan,  Jew,  or  Jesuit — a  jail-bird  or  a 
saint — and  I  can  enjoy  his  society  and  make  something 
out  of  him.  But  the  most  hopeless  sort  of  folks  are  these 
regular  society  people,  who  are  all  rim  in  one  mould. 
They  have  no  curiosity  to  hear  anything,  for  they  know 
it  all,  and  they  won't  tell  anything,  unless  you  put  them 
on  the  rack,  for  fear  it  might  be  vulgar,  I  suppose." 

The  young  traveler's  eyes  sparkled  with  deep  delight 
as  they  swept  on  through  an  ever-changing  magnificence 
of  mountains.  She  was  a  true  child  of  the  hills,  and 
these  were  gi*ander  ranges  than  she  had  ever  seen  be- 
fore. The  sun  had  been  flashing  the  rivers  and  coloring 
the  mountains  in  royal  style,  till,  late  in  the  afternoon, 
the  skies  began  to  cloud  over,  as  if  there  was  nothing 
more  worth  showing.  The  clouds  sulked  and  lowered, 
and  threatened  every  moment  to  bm'st  into  tears.  ISTow 
and  then  they  di'izzled  just  enough  to  make  streaks  in 
the  soot  on  the  windows  and  car-platforms. 

Our  traveler's  spirits  sank  from  their  exhilaration,     A 


A   CHANGE   OF   SCENE.  137 

kind  of  grey  cliill  spreading  through  the  murky  air 
made  known  that  the  sun  was  near  going  down.  At  the 
same  time  she  saw  in  the  distance  a  dense  body  of  smoke, 
hanging  like  a  dismal  doom  over  some  large  town,  whose 
dingy  chimneys  were  belching  solid  columns  of  yellowish 
blackness  into  its  gloom.  The  sulphurous  smell  of  bitu- 
minous coal  grew  more  strong  and  disagreeable.  Her 
aunt,  tired  with  the  long  day's  travel,  had  fallen  into  a 
nap.  Her  uncle  leaned  forward  from  the  seat  behind, 
and  touched  her  shoulder. 

"  "Wake  up,  Margaret ;  we  are  almost  home.  That  is 
our  city  yonder,  Theodora." 

"  Is  that  Wheeling  ?" 

She  ventured  no  comment.  So  she  was  to  enter  into 
that  horror  of  great  darkness  to  spend  a  year  of  her  life ! 

"  There  is  our  buggy,"  said  Mrs.  Bradley  to  her  hus- 
band, as  the  train  stopped,  "  and  oui'  express  wagon. 
Can  you  see  who  has  come  for  us  ?" 

"  Old  Jake— there  he  is." 

Theodora  saw  an  oldish  man,  loosely  put  together, 
shambling  along  towards  them,  with  a  broad  grin  on  his 
face. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,  Jake,"  said  her  uncle,  shaking  hands 
with  him.     "  How  are  they  all  at  home  ?" 

"  They're  all  right.  "Will,  he  'lowed  to  come  after  ye 
himself,  but  they'd  cut  right  smart  o'  hay,  and  they 
wanted  to  get  it  in  'gain'  it  rained.  So  they  sent  me. 
'Spect  they  thought  I  wa'n't  much  'count  to  home.  Job 
he  was  goin'  out  to  'Hio,  so  he  drove  in  the  'spress." 

"Why,  uncle,  do  you  do  your  haying  in  September?" 
asked  Theodora,  as  they  walked  towards  the  vehicle. 

"  Second  crop.  Now  you  are  to  go  in  the  buggy  with 
yom-  Aunt  Margaret,  and  I  will  ride  with  Jake  and  the 


138  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

baggage  in  tlie  express  wagon  ;  but  if  it  is  prettj  dark 
when  you  get  to  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  your  aunt  feels 
timid  about  dri\ang  up,  we  will  exchange." 

"  Exchange  now,  uncle ;  let  me  ride  in  with  Jake  ;  jou 
are  more  tired  than  I  am." 

"  "Would  you  fancy  riding  through  town  in  a  baggage 
wagon  ?" 

"  I  shouldn't  care." 

He  smiled  and  said,  "  If  Mr.  Torrington  should  meet 
his  music-teacher  driving  out  in  that  style,  he  might  be 
shocked.  'No  ;  this  is  the  best  way.  Let  me  help  you  in. 
You  two  start  on  and  we  will  ovei-take  you." 

Her  future  abode  looked  anything  but  attractive  to 
Theodora  as  they  drove  through  the  streets.  The  brick 
walls  were  dingy ;  a  great  bare  hill  loomed  up  against 
the  leaden  sky  in  the  backgi'ound.  In  passing  out 
of  the  city  they  had  to  climb  a  long  ascent ;  comfortless 
brown  houses  were  trying  to  keep  a  foothold  on  it.  A 
small  boy  was  amusing  himself  sifting  ashes,  which  the 
wind  took  in  their  faces.  A  sow  with  a  litter  of  pigs, 
grunting,  hmTied  out  of  the  road. 

Once  at  the  top  of  this  hill,  Theodora  drew  a  long 
breath ;  the  town  was  behind  them,  and  the  air  a  shade 
less  pitchy.  Before  them,  lay  a  long,  winding  descent  by 
a  broad,  hard  macadamized  turnpike.  High  to  the  left 
were  piled  horizontal  stratas  of  limestome,  with  stunted 
trees  grappling  their  roots  about  their  ragged  edges.  All 
along  the  right,  a  low,  broad  stone  parapet  guarded  the 
traveler  from  a  precipice  so  abrupt  that  from  the  carriage 
nothing  could  be  seen,  short  of  the  creek,  and  the  meado  .>■ 
four  hundred  feet  below. 

"  This  is  the  scene  of  McCuIloch's  famous  leap,"  said 
Mrs.  Bradley. 


A    CHANGE   OF    SCENE.  139 

"I  didn't  know  that  McCulloch  ever  lept,  nor  that 
there  was  any  McCulloch,"  said  Theodora ;  "  am  I  dis- 
gracefully ignorant  ?" 

"  AVell — I  won't  tell.  It  is  just  a  local  tradition,  but 
it  was  told  me  so  many  times,  going  past  this  place,  the 
first  years  I  lived  here,  that  I  nearly  wished  the  Indians 
had  made  an  end  of  him." 

"  What  was  it  ?  Do  enlighten  me  '  before  I  further 
run. ' " 

"  McCulloch  was  one  of  the  boldest  of  the  pioneers  that 
first  settled  this  region,  and  at  one  time  he  was  surprised 
by  Indians,  just  on  top  of  that  hill  to  our  left.  He  saw 
he  was  between  two  parties.  It  seemed  like  only  a  choice 
between  two  modes  of  death,  but  he  preferred  to  trust 
himself  to  the  rocks.  So  he  spurred  his  horse  right  down 
the  face  of  this  precipice,  and  never  stopped  till  he  had 
forded  the  creek  down  there.  The  Indians  stood  stupefied, 
they  say,  at  such  a  miracle  of  daring,  and  so  he  escaped." 

"  I  don't  see  how  it  could  be  possiljle  for  a  horse  to 
make  his  way  down  there,  let  alone  the  rider." 

"  I  suppose  before  the  road  was  cut,  or  any  blasting 
done,  there  might  be  a  foothold  on  the  roots  of  trees  and 
the  shelves  of  stone,  which  we  don't  see  now." 

At  the  foot  of  the  long  hill,  they  passed  through  a 
suburb  in  comparison  with  which  the  city  above  seemed 
delectable.  Liquor  shops,  meat  shops,  smithys,  and  the 
coal  shafts,  pouring  down  their  smutty  loads  from  the 
mines  in  the  hill-side,  made  its  air  a  nauseous  mixture. 

Past  the  toll-gate  and  into  the  open  country.  By 
degrees,  the  smoky,  sulphur-laden  air  grew  clearer.  Still 
the  clouds  were  heavy,  and  everything  lay  in  cold  shadow. 

"  What  a  fine  road  you  have !"  said  Theodora,  glad  to 
find  something  to  praise. 


140  theodoka:  a  home  stoet. 

"  Yes,  it  is  the  National  Eoad  which  runs  from  Bal- 
timore to  Indianayjolis.  It  was  built  bj  the  Government 
and  the  people  together,  some  forty  years  ago." 

"  Who  is  Old  Jake,  Aimt  Margaret  ?  Isn't  it  almost 
time  for  me  to  go  with  him  ?"  The  express  wagon  passed 
them,  and  was  keeping  a  little  in  advance. 

"  Not  for  a  mile  yet.  Jake  used  to  have  a  log-cabin 
and  a  little  patch  of  ground  just  on  the  edge  of  our  farm. 
He  was  always  a  lazy,  good-natured  soul — lilved  to  hunt 
a  good  deal  better  than  work ;  but  he  had  a  right  nice 
little  wife  that  held  things  together  like,  till  she  died  a  few 
years  ago,  and  then  he  took  to  dinnking,  and  his  son,  who 
was  a  good  deal  like  him,  married  a  no-account  kind  of 
girl  with  a  shai-p  tongue,  and  I  suppose  she  made  the  old 
man  pretty  uncomfortable,  so  that  he  drank  all  the  worse. 
He  did  seem  so  forlorn  and  hopeless,  that  we  all  pitied 
him.  Mr.  Bradley  used  to  encourage  him  to  keep  sober, 
and  do  something ;  but  Winter  before  last,  when  he  had 
him  hanling  logs,  one  of  them  somehow  rolled  on  him  and 
broke  his  leg.  Mr.  Bradley  took  him  on  the  sled  and 
bronght  him  home,  for  he  said  he  knew  his  daughter-in-law 
wouldn't  take  any  proper  care  of  him.  It  was  all  Winter 
before  he  could  get  around,  and  somehow  he  has  been 
with  us  ever  since.  He  seemed  to  hate  the  thought  of 
going  away  that  badly,  we  hadn't  the  heart  to  turn  him 
off." 

"  Has  he  stopped  drinking?" 

"  Pretty  nearly.  He  has  been  drunk  twice  in  the  time, 
but  I  am  in  hopes  we'll  get  him  off  from  it  entirely.  He 
took  to  liquor  because  he  was  so  comfortless  like,  and  as 
long  as  he  can  stay  where  he  has  plenty  he  likes  to  eat, 
and  people  are  kind  to  him,  I  think  he  doesn't  crave  it  so 
very  much.     It  is  a  rod  over  his  head  that  he  knows  we 


A   CHANGE   OF    SCENE.  141 

can't  keep  him  if  he  doesn't  quit  it.  He  does  little 
things  around  the  house  and  the  stable,  and  tries  to  be 
of  some  use,  though  he  is  right  lame  and  getting  old." 

Presently  the  express  wagon  stopped,  and  the  buggy 
coming  up  with  it,  the  new  arrangement  was  made. 
Then  thej  turned  sharply  off  to  the  left  from  the  hard, 
finely  graded  'pike  on  to  the  country  road,  narrow  and 
steep  and  uneven,  of  soft  earth  and  rolling  stones.  The 
twilight  was  soon  ahnost  lost  iu  the  shade  of  forest  trees. 
There  was  just  light  enough  to  show  a  deep  gully  here, 
or  a  stump  crowding  close  up-ju  t'le  p:ith  there. 

"  You  call  this  safe,  do  you,  Jake  ?  "  said  Theodora, 
after  riding  some  time  with  her  eyes  pi-etty  wide  open. 

"  Well,  yes,  ma'am  ;  I  never  hearn  tell  of  an  opset  on 
this  road  but  oncet.  Then  the  horse  frightened,  up  by 
yon  dead  tree,  and  backed  off  the  side.  A  shai-p  rail 
struck  him  and  snagged  him  so  he  died.  He  was  an 
onerey  old  beast,  anyway  ;  never  got  fairly  bridlewise  to 
his  dyin'  day." 

"  It's  pretty  sidling  here." 

"  It's  tol'able  slippey,  is  the  worst  on't.  "We  had  right 
smart  o'  rain  yesterday.     Git !  Bones,  git ! " 

This  timely  exhortation,  backed  by  a  crack  of  the  whip, 
brought  the  horses  quickly  around  the  sidling,  "  slippery  " 
turn,  where  a  steep  bank  went  down  from  the  out\v"ard  side. 

"  Is  one  of  the  horses  named  '  Bones'  ? " 

"  The  girls  call  him  Juba,  but  I  al'ays  call  him  Bones, 
'cause  he  will  show  his  ribs ;  eats  a  heap  o'  feed,  too.    The 
nigh  horse  is  a  dependable  creeter,  al'ays  'lows  to  pull  his* 
share." 

They  passed  an  open  space,  where  a  candle  flickered 
from  a  log-cabin  window,  and  some  turkeys,  distm-bed  on 
their  roost,  stirred  and  gobbled  sleepily. 


142  THEODOEA  !    A   HOME   STORY. 

Theodora  fell  to  wondering  what  sort  of  a  place  her 
uncle's  house  might  be,  and  whether  she  should  like  her 
cousins  and  they  lier. 

Old  Jake's  voice  broke  into  the  current  of  her  thoughts, 
saying : 

"  The  girls  was  redden'  up  the  house  extry  line  this 
momin' ;  said  they  expected  you'd  be  mighty  p'tic'lar, 
bein'  a  Yankee." 

So  they  rather  dreaded  her !  She  smiled  in  the  dark, 
at  the  idea  of  any  lady's  being  afraid  of  her  Yankee 
particularity,  but  it  did  not  make  her  more  comfort- 
able. 

"  Goin'  to  stay  a  good  spell  ? "  asked  Jake,  by  way  of 
keeping  up  conversation. 

"  I  am  going  into  Wheeling  to  teach  music." 

"  You  be  ?     When  does  your  school  take  up  ?" 

"  It  isn't  a  school.     Just  scholars,  one  at  a  time." 

"  Kind  o'  slow  wa}^,  ain't  it  ? " 

"  It's  the  way  for  music." 

A  miserable,  homesick  feeling  stole  over  the  girl.  The 
thought  of  spending  a  year  among  strangers,  in  that 
murky,  evil-smelling  town,  lay  like  lead  on  her  spirits. 
The  dear  group  gathered  around  the  tal)le  in  the  bright 
sitting-room  at  home  rose  before  hei* — her  father's  noble 
head,  and  her  mother's  sweet  face,  with  the  lace  frills  of 
her  cap  resting  above  her  soft  curls — Miriam's  graceful 
form — Faith's  black  eyes,  q,nd  Jessie's  golden  hair — Don- 
ald playing  some  little  practical  joke  on  one  or  other  of 
them ;  she  wished  it  were  she  ! 

A  doleful  cry  came  out  from  the  woods  on  the  left. 

"  What's  that  ? "  she  said,  with  a  start. 

"  That's  an  owl,"  answered  Jake,  with  a  short  laugh. 
"  Sca't,  was  ye  ?     Don't  ye  have  no  owls  your  way  ?  " 


A   CHANGE   OF    SCENE.  143 

"  I  never  heard  one  before,"  she  answered. 

"  I  sh'd  think  that  was  queer,"  returned  Jake. 

Again  the  mournful  "  Who  !  who  !  who-o-o  !  "  sounded 
out  of  the  darkness, 

"  If  I  don't  hold  on,  I  shall  boo-boo  in  concert  with 
him,"  ihought  Theodora. 

"  I  declare  for't.  Whoa !  "  said  Jake.  "  The  girls  put 
in  a  piece  for  je,  and  I  never  thought  on't  till  this 
minnut.'' 

"Piece  of  what?"  she  wondered;  but  she  had  already 
appeared  so  green  in  the  eyes  of  her  companion,  having 
never  heard  an  owl,  that  she  thought  best  to  keep  still  and 
await  developments,  while  he  pawed  about  under  the  seat 
of  the  wagon. 

"  AVhat's  the  matter  ? "  called  Mr.  Bradley,  from  the 
carriage  in  the  rear. 

"  Nothin'  dange-rous,"  answered  Jake,  as  he  drew  out  a 
basket  and  went  back  to  him  with  it. 

Theodora  took  the  reins,  which  he  had  twisted  around 
the  whip-stock,  for,  peering  down  the  side  of  the  road,  it 
looked  as  if  one  might  travel  a  great  ways  in  a  short 
time  if  the  horses  should  happen  to  shy  over  there.  Pres- 
ently Jake  came  back,  and  handed  the  basket  up  to  her, 
saying : 

"  Your  orders  is  to  eat  what's  left." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  dunno.     l^othin'  veiy  bad  to  take,  I  expect." 

S^ie  had  not  thought  of  being  hungry ;  but  as  she 
groped  about  m  the  basket,  and  drew  out  one  nice  bit 
after  another  of  broiled  chicken  and  sweet  bread  and 
butter,  and  then  a  delicious  bunch  of  grapes,  she  was 
amused  to  feel  a  sensible  rise  in  her  courage. 

"  Won't  you  have  some?  "  she  asked  Jake. 


144  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

"  IS'o,  thank  ye.  I  eat  right  smart  o'  pa\v|iaws  a  bit 
ago,  and  I  don't  care  'bout  no  more  till  we're  home." 

They  seemed  to  have  reached  a  level  height,  and  the 
wagon  trnndled  along  quite  fast.  As  they  came  around 
a  bend  in  the  road,  the  sound  of  some  musical  instrument 
was  brought  on  the  wind.  At  first  it  seemed  sweet,  as  it< 
was  unexpected,  but  as  they  came  near,  Theodora  thought 
it  had  a  hand-organ  quality,  yet  was  too  irregular  for 
that. 

"  Your  owls  don't  play  '  Pop  goes  the  weasel,'  do  they  ?" 
she  said  to  Jake,  "  What  is  that  music  coming  out  of  the 
woods  ? " 

"  That  must  be  Bethann's  'cordion.  She's  a  gi-eat 
player,"  said  Jake,  with  pride. 

"  Who  is  Bethann  ? " 

"  She  is  Joe's  wife.  They're  yer  uncle's  tenants. 
Lives  in  the  cabin  right  yere." 

He  walked  his  horses  slowly  past  a  little  log-house,  so 
that  Theodora  had  a  fine  "  interior "  through  the  open 
door. 

A  coal-oil  lamp  shed  its  bright  light  on  a  fair  young 
woman,  with  a  mass  of  brown  hair  twisted  around  her 
head,  and  a  clean  print  neatly  fitted  over  her  well- 
rounded  figure,  she  was  drawing  the  folds  of  a  large 
accordion,  which  rested  on  her  knee.  A  young  man,  in 
his  shirt-sleeves,  sat  on  a  stool  opposite,  his  chin  resting 
on  his  hand,  lost  in  admiration  of  her  and  her.  music ;  the 
nicely-scoured  floor,  the  gay  quilt  on  the  plump  feather- 
bed, the  pitcher  of  flowers  on  the  bureau,  completed  a 
pretty  picture ;  and  the  vines,  trained  on  bent  poles  over 
the  door,  made  just  the  rustic  setting  for  it. 

"They've  been  married  only  six  months,"  said  Jake, 
apologetically. 


A   CHANGE   OF   SCENE.  145 

The  clieering  notes  of  "  Captain  Jinks  of  the  Horse 
Marines "  followed  our  travelers  up  another  rough  hill, 
distance  softening  their  strident  tones  to  sweetness. 

"  There's  our  house,  yender,"  said  Jake,  as  they  passed 
over  the  summit. 

She  could  just  discern  a  gable-end  rising  from  among 
trees,  but  a  bright  light  rayed  from  the  windows. 

Now  a  chorus  of  dogs  began  to  bark,  and  the  horses 
trotted  up  to  the  gate  in  the  midst  of  a  gi-and  demonstra- 
tion on  their  pai*t.  They  raced  from  the  wagon  to  the 
buggy,  and  from  the  buggy  back  again,  barking  as  if  it 
was  their  last  chance. 

"  Hullo ! "  called  Jake,  "  here  we  be ! " 

Then  she  saw  figures  moving  about  in  the  light  within, 
and  voices  came  to  the  door.  There  was  a  joyful  con- 
fusion of  greetings,  and  questions  which  nobody  answered, 
and  laughing,  and  the  whinnying  of  horses  and  barking 
of  dogs. 

"  Help  out  your  cousin,  "Will,"  called  the  mother. 

Theodora  felt  herseK  lifted  down  and  kissed  by  a 
stout  six-footer,  and  handed  over  to  a  girl  taller  than 
herself. 

"  So  this  is  Theodora ;  I  am  so  glad  you  've  come !  " 
said  she,  giving  her  a  cousinly  embrace,  and  leading  her 
into  the  house. 

"And  I  am  glad  to  get  here.  "Which  are  you,  Kate  or 
Bessie  ? " 

"  I  am  Kate  ;  Bessie,  where  are  you  ?  Come  and  see 
Cousin  Theodora." 

She  was  putting  down  an  armful  of  satchels  and  shawls, 
and  came  forward  to  give  a  friendly  welcome,  with  a 
shade  of  shyness  in  it.  She  was  a  degree  below  her  sis- 
ter in  height,  though  still  taller  than  their  New  England 
7 


14:6  THEODORA  '.    A    HOME   STORY. 

cousin,  and  a  blonde,  while  Kate  was  dark.  The  sitting- 
room  light,  after  the  darkness,  dazzled  Theodora's  eyes, 
but  it  warmed  her  heart,  for  she  saw  in  a  moment  that 
these  new  cousins  would  be  friends,  and  a  cousin  you  like 
is  such  a  nice  thing  to  have ! 


xm. 

ESMADUEA. 

ABOUT  three-quarters  of  an  hour  after  the  sun  had 
risen  on  the  Cameron  household,  his  level  beams 
found  out  the  eyelids  of  their  stray  girl.  They  lifted 
suddenly,  and  she  looked  about  to  see  where  she  was.  A 
large,  pleasant  room,  with  a  bright  carpet,  roses  and  lilies 
on  the  wall-paper,  a  pretty  black  walnut  chamber-set,  the 
sun  streaming  over  many  shades  of  green  boughs  in  at 
two  windows  opposite. 

"Aunt  Margaret's,  to  be  sure — that's  where  it  is ! " 
The  recollection  of  that  smutty,  disagreeable  town  came 
back,  but  she  sent  it  away,  and  said  to  herself  :  "  This  is 
pleasant,  anyhow  ;  and  I  don't  have  to  go  for  two 
weeks." 

When  she  answered  to  the  breakfast-bell,  she  found 
the  table  laid  on  a  porch,  enclosed  on  three  sides  with  a 
net-work  of  morning-glories  for  its  outward  wall.  As 
the  light  breeze  swayed  them,  she  caught  glimpses  of  a 
well  and  a  garden  beyond,  with  gladiolus  and  salvia  flam- 
ing here  and  there. 

People  are  to  be  pitied  who  enjoy  running  in  only  one 
groove.  It  was  always  a  pleasure  to  Theodora  to  look  into 
a  new  phase  of  life.  She  listened  to  the  table-talk  that 
morning  with  as  keen  a  relish  as  she  ate  her  waffles  and 
honey,  it  was  all  so  new  to  her  : — the  interested  questions 
and  answers  about  the  wheat  and  the  com,  the  cabbages 
and  potatoes,  the  steers  and  the  colt,  the  sheep  and  cows. 

(147) 


148  THEODORA:    A   HOME   STORY. 

The  creatures  on  the  place  seemed  to  have  as  much  in- 
dividuality as  SO  many  persons. 

When  it  came  to  the  neighborhood  news,  she  was  de- 
lighted with  the  mixture  of  shrewd  sense  and  kmdliness 
in  their  comments,  dashed  now  and  then  with  an  idiom 
novel  to  her.  She  thought  old  Jake  and  the  hired  man 
who  sat  next  him  atoned  for  their  primitive  table  man- 
ners by  the  richness  of  their  patais  when  they  spoke. 

"  Going  right  into  it,  uncle  ?  "  she  asked,  as  she  saw 
him,  in  his  working  suit,  taking  his  hat  to  go  out  after 
breakfast. 

"  Yes,  I  must  go  and  say  '  How  are  ye  ? '  to  my  sheep." 

"  May  I  go  with  you  ? " 

"  If  you  want  to,  yes.  I  will  show  you  one  of  the 
finest  flocks  this  side  of  the  AUeo-hanies." 

He  took  a  small  bag  of  salt  in  his  hand  and  they  went 
out.  They  passed  thi-ough  a  basin-shaped  pasture  where 
horses  and  cows  were  gi-azing.  Some  of  them  looked  up  ; 
one  hoi-se  whinnied  and  came  trotting  towards  them. 

"  Old  Moll  is  glad  to  see  her  master  back  !  Mistress 
Moll  Pitcher,  this  is  a  Vermont  lady  come  to  see  you ; 
that's  a  country  where  they  have  tine  horses,  but  I  doubt 
whether  they  have  any  better-hearted  than  you."  He 
stroked  and  patted  her  while  she  laid  her  head  on  his 
shoulder,  and  showed,  by  every  sign  which  horses  know, 
her  pleasure  at  seeing  him. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Moll  Pitcher,"  said  Theodora, 
in  retm*n  to  the  introduction.  "  I  can't  say  I  think 
you're  a  beauty,  though,  unless  it  is  on  the  principle  of 
'  handsome  is  that  handsome  does.' " 

"  Indeed  she's  a  beauty  by  that  test,  for  we  owe  your 
Aunt  Margaret's  life  to  her.  When  she  was  coming  down 
Wheeling  Hill,  one  time,  the  breeching  broke  and  let  the 


I 


ESMADUEA.  149 

buggy  nm  right  against  Old  Moll,  and  the  faithful  creat- 
ure just  looked  round  to  see  what  was  to  be  done,  and 
stood  a-nd  held  it  till  Margaret  could  get  out  and  call 
help." 

"  She  did  !     I  shall  love  her  for  that." 

He  strewed  a  little  salt  on  the  grass  and  walked  on. 
Theodora  saw  that  as  soon  as  Moll  had  eaten  it  she  fol-' 
lowed  close  at  his  shoulder  all  across  the  field. 

"  Some  mercenary  souls  would  say  she  was  after  more 
salt,"  he  said,  with  a  twinkle  that  often  came  into  his 
blue  eyes ;  "  but  I  have  no  question  that  it  is  disinterested 
affection." 

He  opened  a  gate  and  held  it  for  his  niece  to  pass 
through.  The  horse  seemed  to  understand  she  must  not 
go  further,  but  stood  looking  over  it.  On  the  opposite 
side  of  this  field  was  a  grove  of  oaks  and  "  sugar  trees," 
and  scattered  about  among  them,  a  large  flock  of  sheep 
were  feeding.  At  the  sound  of  voices,  they  raised  their 
heads ;  for  half  a  minute  looked  and  listened,  then  they 
came  running,  pell-mell,  with  that  thick,  soft  sound  made 
by  the  trampling  of  so  many  tiny  hoofs  on  the  sward. 

"  Why,  they  are  running  right  to  you,  uncle  !  Sheep 
always  run  away  from  me  just  so  fast." 

"  Yes,  they  always  do  that ;  didn't  you  hear  a  great 
bleating  and  running  as  we  came  up  past  the  '  spring 
field  '  last  night  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sii',  I  noticed  it  sounded  as  if  they  were  crowd- 
ing up  to  the  fence  ! " 

"  But  you  did  not  understand  the  reason  ?  They  heard 
my  voice  as  I  was  riding  by." 

"  And  you  had  been  gone  six  weeks !  Why,  I  didn't 
suppose  there  was  anything  so  like  the  Good  Shepherd 
and  his  flock  in  this  country ;  T  thought  it  was  only  iu 


150  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STOEY. 

the  East  that  thej  loved  tlieir  sliepherd  so  as  to  follow  in 
the  dark  where  thej  could  hear  his  voice." 

"  There,  again,  some  ill-natured  people  might  say  thej 
were  after  the  loaves  and  fishes.  I  hate  to  disappoint 
them  when  they  come  trooping  after  me ;  so  I  almost 
.  always  take  along  a  sprinkle  of  salt  when  I  go  into  tlie 
fields,  just  as  I  provide  myself  with  sugar-plums  when  I 
go  to  see  my  grandchildren." 

"  Even  at  that,  they  are  not  so  very  different  from  peo- 
ple ;  we  are  more  apt  to  love  a  person  for  being  good  to 
us  than  simply  good  in  himself.  Uow  funny  they  do 
look !  Actually  scrambling  on  one  another's  backs  to 
get  at  you  and  the  salt  1  Let  me  give  them  some,  may 
I?" 

He  poured  a  little  into  her  hands,  which  she  held  out 
to  the  woolly  creatures ;  they  demurred,  but  presently 
ventured,  and  she  laughed  to  feel  their  velvety  noses 
rubbing  her  palms. 

"  So,  ho,  Sam  Patch  !  Have  you  only  just  now  got  the 
news  ? "  She  followed  his  eyes  and  saw  a  sheep  running 
out  of  the  woods,  leaping  over  the  fallen  logs  at  full 
speed. 

"  What  is  he  named  Sam  Patch  for  ? " 

"  He  is  such  a  jumper.  Don't  you  see  how  he  comes  ? 
His  mother  disowned  him  when  he  was  a  lamb,  so  we 
had  to  biing  him  up  at  the  house,  and  the  children  named 
him.     He  clambers  about  like  a  mountain  goat." 

"  And  so  you  know  him  from  the  rest,  because  you 
had  him  at  the  house  ?" 

"  Know  him !  Why,  my  child,  I  know  nearly  every 
one  of  the  flock." 

"  How  is  it  possible.  Uncle  Graham !  They  all  look 
alike  to  me." 


ESMADUKA.  151 

"  But  to  me,  their  faces  are  as  dijlerent  as  so  many 
people's.  It  is  iu  things  we  love  and  study,  that  we  learn 
to  discriminate  ;  now  I  could  hardly  tell  the  tunes  apart 
that  you  play  on  the  piano.  I  just  have  a  general  notion 
that  one  is  lively  and  another  solemn,  while  you  would 
think  there  was  a  world-wide  difference.  Now  we  will 
just  take  a  turn  through  the  sugar  camp  and  come 
around  to  another  field." 

As  they  walked  on,  Theodora  was  charmed  with  the 
fine  old  trees,  and  the  glimpses  of  verdant  hills  on  every 
side.  Her  uncle  led  her  to  a  high  knoll,  where  she  could 
see  a  large  circuit,  and  stood  enjoying  her  admiration  of 
the  prospect. 

"  How  different  your  hills  are  from  ours  at  home, 
Uncle  Graham.  These  are  so  softly  rounded  and  so  fer- 
tile to  the  very  summit ;  while  ours,  in  Vermont  and 
New  Hampshire,  break  into  crags  at  the  top.  Ours  look 
as  if  there  must  have  been  wild  work  when  they  were 
made ;  but  there — they  look  like  mighty  billows  of  ver- 
dure struck  solid  without  any  stonn.  They  lie  ridge 
after  ridge,  just  like  billows,  don't  they  ?" 

"  Yes ;  their  lines  are  broken  where  a  ran  has  worn  a 
ravine  or  a  creek  makes  a  broader  valley.  I  wish  our 
farm  lay  so  that  we  could  see  the  river.  I  became  so 
attached  to  the  great  St.  Lawrence  living  at  Mont  R^al 
that  I  never  can  quite  get  over  missing  water  from  our 
view." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  ever  lived  in  Montreal." 

"  Didn't  you  know  I  was  a  jeweler  once  ?" 

^'^  K  jeweler !  No,  indeed,  I  can't  imagine  it.  I  can 
fancy  you  '  hewing  out  a  Colossus,  but  not  carving  faces 
on  cherry  stones.'  To  think  of  yom*  being  over  a  shelf 
with  one  of  those  magnifying  glasses  stuck  in  your  eye 


152  theodoea:  a  home  story. 

putting  a  hair-spring  into  a  watch  !  "  She  glanced  over 
his  six  feet  of  height,  his  broad  shoulders,  and  strong 
hands  in  amazement.    "  Are  you  quite  sure  of  it,  uncle  ?" 

He  smiled  and  said  :  "  There  may  be  a  question  of 
identity  to  you,  but  not  to  me." 

"  But  how  came  you  to  be  a  jeweler  in  Montreal  and 
then  a  wool-grower  in  Virginia  ?  Do  tell  me  all  about 
it.  You  started  from  a  nook  in  New  Hampshire,  I 
know.  Begin  at  the  beginning,  won't  you,  please,  and 
tell  me  the  stoiy  ? " 

"  Well,  the  beginning  was  when  my  father  died,  when 
I  was  nine  years  old.  My  mother  was  poor,  and  I  was 
her  main  dependence.  When  I  was  fifteen,  I  went  to 
the  neighboring  city  to  learn  the  watch-maker's  trade. 
An  apprentice  was  obliged  to  work  so  many  hours  a  day, 
and  if  he  chose  to  do  any  more  than  that,  it  was  set 
down  to  his  credit.  I  added  an  hour  a  day ;  so  by  the 
time  I  was  twenty  my  hours  had  counted  up  to  six 
months.  The  other  six  months  that  lay  between  me  and 
twenty-one  I  bought  off  ;  then  I  went  back  to  my  native 
village  and  set  up  for  myself.  I  was  very  successful,  and 
you  may  imagine  I  was  glad  to  be,  for  I  wanted  to  help 
my  brothers.  The  oldest  I  taught  my  trade,  but  the  two 
boys  younger  I  was  resolved  should  never  feel  the  want 
of  an  education,  as  I  did,  and  I  sent  them  through  col- 
lege." 

"  But  I  don't  see  when  you  got  your  own  education," 
she  said,  with  a  quiet  smile. 

"  It  seems  odd  that  people  often  take  me  for  a  liberally 
educated  man.  All  that  I  went  to  school,  before  I  was 
fifteen,  would  not  amount  to  more  than  a  year.  We 
lived  a  long  way  fi-om  the  school-house,  and  my  motlier 
needed  me  all  the  time.     The  law  allowed  apprentices 


ESMADITEA.  153 

one  montli  a  year  of  schooling.  The  first  part  of  the 
time  I  was  learning  my  trade  I  used  to  get  that.  That 
is  the  amount  of  my  '  education.'  Reading  and  writing 
and  arithmetic  were  about  all.  I  never  studied  a  page  of 
grammar  or  geography  or  history  at  school." 

"  I  never  was  so  ashamed  of  myself  in  my  life,"  said 
Theodora.  "  Just  look  at  the  matter  of  geography.  I 
studied  geography  two  years,  perhaps,  and  recited  every 
day  at  school,  but  you  know  ten  times  as  much  about  it 
as  I  do.  When  we  were  traveling,  you  knew  all  about 
the  rivers  and  towns  and  mountains,  while  I  hardly  knew 
whether  we  came  first  to  the  Susquehanna  or  the  Potomac, 
the  Blue  Ridge  or  the  Alleghanies." 

"A  man  can't  make  a  practice  for  years  of  reading  the 
newspapers,  with  an  atlas  at  his  elbow,  using  it  faithfully, 
without  learning  something." 

"And  then  you  were  all  the  time  putting  to  shame  my 
history.  I  was  interested  in  history  at  school,  and  thought 
I  studied  it  well ;  but  when  you  referred  to  me  for  in- 
formation, passing  through  Trenton  and  Baltimore  and 
Washington,  and  so  forth,  I  never  could  remember 
exactly  /  I  had  a  general  idea  of  the  historical  association, 
but  I  noticed  if  you  knew  a  thing  at  all,  you  knew  it  with 
precision.  To  find  you  have  learned  so  much  more  out 
of  school  than  I  have  in,  humbles  me  uncomfortably." 

"  I  have  lived  almost  four  times  as  long  as  you,  my 
dear,"  he  said,  looking  down  upon  her  kindly.  "  What 
I  know,  I  have  learned  as  the  thu'sty  drink,  and  I  could 
not  forget  it.     Desirer  savoir  d'est  le  sa/ooirP 

"  Oh,  that  brings  us  back  to  the  story.  How  came  you 
to  be  in  Montreal  ?  You  began  business  for  yourself  at 
twenty,  and  educated  your  two  brothers — what  then  ? " 

"After  I  had  built  a  house  and  a  shop  in  the  old  village, 


154  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   8T0ET. 

I  heard  of  a  Ad e  opening  for  the  trade  in  Montreal ;  so  I 
gave  that  shop,  with  its  furnishing,  to  the  brother  who 
was  with  me,  and  set  up  business,  in  partnership  with 
Lancaster,  a  young  fiiend  of  mine,  in  the  Canadian  city. 
We  were  prosperous,  making  money  hand  over  hand 
till  1812." 

"  Eighteen-twelve  !  Why,  uncle,  that  seems  so  long 
ago  ! " 

."  Oh,  no  ;  not  so  very  long,  I  was  twenty-seven  then. 
I  had  gone  over  to  England  at  the  beginning  of  the  year 
to  buy  cutlery  and  other  goods,  and  very  soon  there  began 
to  be  rumors  of  war  between  the  two  countries.  If  steam- 
ships had  been  nmning  then  it  would  have  been  a  great 
convenience  to  me !  However,  I  reached  home  several 
weeks  before  war  M'as  declared.  Montreal  was  not  a 
pleasant  residence  for  Americans  after  that.  Time  and 
again  my  hat  was  knocked  off  in  the  street,  because  I 
wouldn't  join  in  the  cry,  '  God  save  the  King  ! '  Finally, 
all  aliens  were  required  to  take  an  unqualified  oath  of 
allegiance  to  the  British  Government,  or  quit  the  prov- 
ince." 

"  It  did  not  take  you  long  to  choose,  I  fancy." 

"  No ;  still  it  cost  us  several  thousand  dollars  to  pull  up 
stakes  so  suddenly.  One  little  incident  I  remember,  that 
happened  not  long  before  we  came  away.  We  saw  some 
of  the  American  troops,  surrendered  at  Queenstown, 
brought  into  the  city ;  the  poor  fellows  were  in  a  pitiful 
state,  their  feet  half -bare  and  bleedmg  from  marching  over 
the  snows.  Lancaster  and  another  friend  and  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  sending  them  a  hundi'ed  pairs  of  shoes,  and 
they  were  thankful  enough  for  them.  Now,  Theodora, 
are  you  country  girl  enough  to  climb  this  fence  ?  It  will 
shorten  our  distance  considerably." 


ESMADUEA.  155 

"  Yes,  indeed ;  I  like  climbing  fences." 

"  Now  you  are  up ;  be  sure  your  skirts  are  clear ;  put 
your  Lands  on  my  sboulders,  and  I  will  give  you  a 
jump." 

"  Capital !  TVhat  a  deligbtful  escort  you  are,  Uncle 
Graham  !  I^ow  you  are  out  of  Montreal ;  bow  did  you 
get  liere  ? " 

"  Well,  Lancaster  and  I  floated  around  some  weeks, 
before  deciding  wbere  to  settle  down.  But  we  met  in 
"Washington  an  old  friend  of  ours,  who  was  all  on  fire 
about  a  new  line  of  business ;  if  we  would  only  go  into 
partnership  with  him,  we  could  make  our  fortunes 
straightway.  There  was  a  great  interest  just  then  among 
wool-growers  about  bringing  fine-wooled  Merino  sheep 
into  the  country.  They  were  commanding  great  prices, 
and  expected  to  sell  again  at  much  greater,  Morton's 
plan  was  to  buy  a  flock  of  these  sheep  from  the  importer, 
and  take  them  beyond  the  Alleghanies,  where  they  had 
not  yet  been  introduced,  and  sell  at  some  fabulous  profit. 
We  filled  out  the  first  pai-t  of  his  programme,  but  not  the 
last.  The  rage  for  fine  wool  subsided.  It  settled  into  a 
fair  business,  but  was  no  speculation." 

"  That  was  better,  I  suppose." 

"  Perhaps ;  though  I  have  enough  confidence  in  my 
own  sense  to  think  I  should  have  known  what  to  do  with 
a  sudden  fortune,  if  it  had  fallen  to  me.  I  have  seen  a 
great  many  ups  and  downs  since  then,  and  I  have  learned 
this,  at  least :  to  live  within  my  means  when  I  have  little 
money,  and  spend  it  generously  when  I  have  much." 

"  So  that  was  the  way  you  came  to  Esmadura  ? " 

"  Not  at  first.  We  settled  down  in  Ohio,  kept 
bachelor's  hall,  and  studied  sheep.  One  after  the  other, 
my  partners  preferred  to  go  into  other  business,  though 


156  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOKT. 

they  are  still  the  dearest  friends  I  have.  I  thought  the 
hills  were  healthier  for  the  flock,  and  so  bonght  this  place, 
which  I  named  Esmadura,  for  a  place  in  Spain,  where 
these  high-bred  sheep  are  native." 

They  had  reached  another  field,  where  the  lambs  were 
capering  about  after  their  peculiarly  aimless  fashion.  Mr. 
Bradley  made  his  niece  examine  the  wool,  and  she  tried 
to  appreciate  and  admire  as  much  as  she  was  expected  to, 
as  he  impressed  its  rare  quality  upon  her. 

"  Is  it  i-eally  veiy  much  more  profitable  than  the  ordi- 
naiy  kind  ? " 

"  No ;  not  yet.  The  wool-buyers  are  not  enlightened 
enough  ;  but  they  are  coming  to  it.  Your  Aunt  Mai'garet 
wants  me  to  keep  the  common  kind,  and  so  raise  twice 
the  weight  of  wool  from  the  same  number ;  l)ut  I  can't 
bring  myself  to  it.  I  believe  in  fine  breeds,  and  they 
will  be  appreciated  in  time.  Just  see  what  beautiful 
fibre  that  is ! " 

"You  make  me  think  of  an  artist  I  knew  in  New 
York.  His  wife  was  complaining  to  me  one  day  that  he 
never  would  let  a  portrait  go  from  his  studio  till  it  suited 
himself.  So  he  would  work  over  it  for  days  after  the 
buyer  thought  it  done  and  wished  to  take  it  away.  '  He 
wants  to  satisfy  Art  and  himseK,'  she  said.  '  I  don't  care 
anything  about  Art ;  I  want  a  house  and  a  carriage.' 
You  make  a  fine-art  of  your  wool-growing,  and  you  must 
have  a  choice  article,  whether  you  get  the  money  for  it 
or  not." 

Sunday  was  the  next  day — first  in  that  long  and  bright 
procession  of  Esmadura  Sundays  which  were  to  hold 
their  way  in  beauty  through  the  memories  of  all  futui'e 
years  for  Theodora. 

"  How  will  you  go  to  church  ? "  asked  her  Amit  M.ai'- 


ESMADURA.  157 

garet,  as  tliey  were  lising  from  the  breakfast-table.  "  One 
goes  with  me  in  the  carriage,  and  the  rest  on  horseback." 

"  I  should  Hke  of  all  things  to  go  on  horseback,  if  I 
only  coidd.  I  always  wanted  to  ride,  but  I  never  had 
the  chance.  Do  you  suppose  I  could  ?  As  long  ago  as  I 
can  remember,  I  used  to  play  ride,  on  the  saw-horse." 

"  Oh,  yes.  You  might  go  on  old  Moll ;  she  would 
carry  a  baby  safely.  Elfie  is  a  little  gay,  and  Juba 
frightens  sometimes.  I  wouldn't  like  you  to  begin  with 
either  of  them ;  but  Moll  Pitcher  is  quiet  as  a  sheep. 
Will  and  one  of  the  girls  would  be  along." 

"  Then  do  let  me  try  that." 

In  due  time,  Jake  came  from  the  stable,  leading  three 
horses,  all  saddled  and  bridled,  and  ready  for  flight.  Moll 
Pitcher  walked  forth  with  as  discreet  and  deliberate  an 
air  as  any  grandmother ;  but  the  girl  who  stood  on  the 
horse-block,  waiting  for  her,  was  all  alive  with  pleasant 
excitement. 

"  Oh,  how  high  I  am  ! "  she  exclaimed,  when  she  was 
in  the  saddle.  "  Why,  the  creature  is  all  neck  !  How 
funny  it  feels  when  she  begins  to  move !  I  expect  to 
cling  to  this  saddle-horn  as  if  my  life  depended  on  it." 

"  Oh,  no ;  you  don't  need  to  touch  that,"  said  Kate, 
springing  onto  Elfie,  and  wheeling  to  her  side.  "  You 
may  just  as  well  get  used  to  independence  first  as  last." 

"Will  was  mounted,  and  they  rode  slowly  along  together 
over  the  hill,  while  she  became  used  to  the  motion.  Then 
came  a  level  space  along  the  high  ground.  The  road  was 
too  narrow  for  three  abreast,  and  the  young  horses  sjDrang 
forward  to  enjoy  their  speed  along  the  smooth  ground. 
Old  Moll,  desirous  to  do  her  duty,  went  into  a  good  round 
trot,  as  the  best  she  could  do  to  keep  up  with  Elfie's 
graceful  lope  and  the  colt's  fancy  dances.     Theodora's 


158  TIIEODOEA  :    A    HOME    STOKT. 

liat  shook  back,  her  hair  shook  down,  and  she  shook  to 
ths  centre.  She  saw  Kate  look  over  her  shoulder  as  she 
flitted  along  under  the  trees  before  her,  then  turn  her 
horse  and  canter  back  to  her,  laughing. 

"  Moll  is  prettj  rough,  isn't  she  ?  " 

"  Oh,  such  bouncing  and  such  jouncing  never  befell 
me  before,  since  I  was  a  small  baby !  If  this  is  the 
pleasure  of  horseback  riding,  it's  a  delusion  and  a  snare  ! 
Is  it  all  because  I  am  so  raw  at  it?  You  and  Will  go 
like  centaurs." 

"  Moll  isn't  a  pleasant  riding-horse,  anywhere  between 
a  walk  and  the  fastest  gallop  she  can  go.  We  won't  go 
fast  to-day.  We  shall  be  in  time.  We  thought  she  was 
best  for  you,  because  she  has  no  tricks,  you  know,  and  is 
always  so  good ;  but,  when  you  get  a  little  used  to  it,  you 
can  take  Elfie,  and  you  will  like  it  better." 

Kate  held  the  bridle  while  the  hair  and  the  hat  were 
set  right.  Will's  horse  was  impatiently  curvetting  about. 
At  last  they  started  on  again.  Moll  had  the  great  merit 
of  being  a  rapid  walker,  and  her  companions  were  checked 
to  keep  back  with  her. 

"  It's  a  shame  for  me  to  spoil  your  ride ;  you  were  go- 
i]ig  so  beautifully.  You  just  go  on,  and  let  me  jog  after 
as  I  can." 

"  Oh,  it's  no  difference,"  said  Will,  whose  colt  was 
chafing  and  sweating  at  the  restraint. 

"  If  we  should  start,  Moll  would  think  she  ought  to 
come  too.  Besides,  if  we  go  slowly,  you  can  see  all  the 
better  what  sort  of  a  place  you  have  come  to,''  said  Kate. 

Some  people  yield  their  pleasure  to  yours  with  an  air 
which  says,  "  Oh,  certainly ;  it  wouldn't  be  poHte  to  do 
anything  else ;  but  then,  of  course,  it  is  a  sacrifice." 
Other  people  have  too  much  courtesy  and  tact  to  betray 


E3MADUEA.  159 

tlie  feelino^,  thongli  tliey  liave  it.  It  seemed  to  Theodora, 
then  and  afterward,  that  Kate  Bradley  belonged  to  that 
rare  number  who  make  the  pleasure  of  others  so  much 
theu"  own,  that  they  do  not  count  the  sacrifice,  in  their 
secret  hearts.  Perhaps  that  was  one  reason  she  had  so 
many  friends. 

As  they  all  paced  quietly  along  together,  Theodora 
began  to  wonder  at  the  beauty  of  the  ride  she  had  passed 
over  in  the  dark,  the  night  she  came.  It  lay,  she  found, 
along  the  crest  of  one  of  those  billows  she  had  spoken  of 
to  her  uncle. 

"  Stop  a  minute  and  look  at  it,"  said  Kate,  pleased  at 
Theodora's  cry  of  delight,  as  they  reached  the  point  where 
the  ridge  began  to  break  towards  the  level  of  the  river. 
"  We  think  it  is  pretty." 

On  their  right,  the  wave-like  hills,  which  skirted  the 
horizon,  sank  to  the  broad  valley  with  graceful  curves, 

"  As  if  God's  finger  touched,  but  did  not  press 
In  making"  them. 

The  golden  greens  which  rested  on  the  dimpled 
meadows,  in  creeping  up  the  liill-sides,  sobered  to  the 
richer  hues  of  forest  foliage.  A  river  glittered  from 
among  the  trees ;  and  away  opposite,  the  circling  hills 
parted  to  let  it  find  its  way  to  the  broader  Ohio,  giving 
glimpses  of  bluer  heights  beyond. 

"  Is  it  mist,  or  cloud,  or  smoke,  that  hangs  over  that 
opening  in  the  hills  ? "  asked  Theodora. 

''  That  is  Wheeling  smoke,"  Will  answered ;  "  it  is  thin, 
Sunday  mornings.  By  the  time  the  citizens  sit  down  to 
their  dinners  it  will  be  darker." 

"  I  think  I  can  endure  it  to  live  in  the  smoke,  if  I  can 
only  come  up  and  get  this  view  once  in  a  while." 


160  THEODOEA  :    A   nOME    STORY. 

"  "Wliy  can't  you  come  out  aud  spend  every  Sunday 
with  us  ? " 

"  Oh,  if  I  only  can  ! " 

"  We  must  see  about  that,"  said  Kate  ;  "  but  you  must 
take  a  look  down  this  other  side  as  well,  Theodora ! " 

The  smaller  valley  on  the  left  seemed  to  shut  in  to 
a  peaceful  last  retreat,  as  that  on  the  other  side  opened 
out  towards  the  great  world.  The  creek  wound  under  the 
grey  arches  of  an  old  bridge,  quiet  homes  nestled  in  tlie 
nooks  of  the  forest,  a  small  stone  church  looked  gravely 
out  from  over-hanging  trees,  and,  from  the  hill-side  below 
it  gleamed  the  white  memorial  marbles  of  God's  Acre. 

The  horses  thought  time  enough  had  been  given  to 
gazing,  and  moved  on.  Theodora  exclaimed  at  the 
broad,  low,  irregular  steps  of  stone  which  cropped  through 
the  soil  and  fonned  the  road  here  at  the  point  of  the 
lidge. 

"  Yes,  we  always  call  this  spot '  The  Limestone  Kocks,'  " 
remarked  Kate. 

"  We  generally  take  a  short  cut  here,"  said  Will,  turn- 
ing short  off  into  the  woods. 

"  What  ?  can  we  go  down  such  a  steep  place?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Kate,  "  Moll  won't  muid  it,  and 
all  you  have  to  do  is  to  stay  on  her  back." 

That  was  a  simple  thing  to  do,  and  it  was  curious  to 
watch  the  horses  choosing  their  foothold  so  skillfully  among 
the  interlacing  roots. 

A  few  minutes  more  and  they  were  on  the  broad,  firm 
level  of  the  National  Road  beside  the  creek.  Along  the 
other  side  of  it  comes  an  old  grey  horse,  keeping  time 
with  his  nodding  head,  to  a  gentle  trot.  He  carries  a 
woman  on  his  back  with  a  wee  girl  in  her  lap,  and  a  boy 
riding    behind,   his  arms   around    his    mother's    waist. 


ESMADUBA.  161 

Plash !  liere  they  come  through  the  creek,  the  horse 
sipping  a  drink  first,  then  breaking  all  the  glassy  reflec- 
tions into  ripples  as  he  walks,  splashing,  across.  Now 
and  then  can  he  seen  through  the  branches,  winding 
down  a  hill  farther  on,  a  picturesque  cavalcade  of  young 
men  and  maidens  on  horseback. 

Just  where  the  broad  turnpike  crosses  the  creek,  and 
sweeps  around  a  curve,  stands  an  old  family  mansion  of 
the  same  grey  stone  as  the  bridge.  Elms,  older  than 
itself,  sweep  its  mossy  roof  and  throw  their  shadows  on 
the  grass-plot  in  front.  Two  little  negroes  are  dabbling 
in  the  creek,  where  it  washes  the  edge  of  the  lawn. 

On  the  green  near  the  end  of  the  bridge,  and  in  fine 
harmony  with  the  massive  grace  of  its  arches,  stands 
a  statue-monument. 

"  It  is  to  Henry  Clay,"  answered  Kate  to  Theodora's 
inquiry. 

"  But  that  isn't  Henry  Clay  !  " 

"  'No,  it 's  Liberty,  or  something  or  other — better-look- 
ing, no  doubt." 

"  Modern  gentlemen  don't  make  remarkably  beautiful 
statues,  to  be  sure  ;  but,  pray,  how  should  there  happen  to 
be  a  statue  to  the  great  Kentuckian,  right  here  by  the 
roadside  ? " 

"  It  was  he  that  secured  the  appropriation  from  Con- 
gress to  build  this  National  Road,"  answered  Will. 
"  He  used  to  pass  through  here  on  his  way  to  Washington, 
and  the  mud  was  that  deep  sometimes,  the  stages  could 
hardly  get  through.  One  of  the  principal  contractors 
who  built  the  road,  lived  in  this  old  mansion-house,  and 
he  and  his  wife  put  up  this  monument  in  honor  of  the 
statesman,  and  of  internal  improvements  in  general,  as 
you  will  see  by  the  inscription.     Contractors  have  learned 


162  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STORY. 

more  practical  ways  of  acknowledging  the  services  of 
Congressmen  since  those  days  !  " 

The  small  stone  church  stood  in  the  edge  of  a  grove, 
and  horses  were  tied  to  nearly  all  the  trees  near  it. 

Our  party  rode  up  to  a  fallen  tree,  and  Will  helped 
Theodora  to  dismount.  Kate  was  as  independent  as  he. 
"While  he  led  aAvay  the  horses,  the  girls  slipped  oft"  their 
riding-skirts,  dofTed  their  gauntlets,  donned  their  "  kids," 
and  were  duly  adjusted  in  proper  Sunday  costume. 

There  was  no  preaching  that  day,  as  the  minister  had 
gone  to  Synod ;  but  after  Sim  day-school  the  congregation 
was  resolved  into  a  prayer-meeting.  One  of  the  Eldera 
read  a  chapter,  and  after  that,  it  was  a  prayer  and  a 
hymn  alternately,  right  thi'ough.  There  were  no  re- 
marks. They  omitted  no  verses  in  the  hymns,  and  there 
were  so  many  pleasant  voices  in  the  congregation  that 
the  service  of  song  was  quite  delightful.  Theodora  had 
often  stood  in  a  sad  maze  before  the  saying  :  "  We  know 
that  we  have  passed  from  death  unto  life  because  we  love 
the  brethren."  She  knew  a  great  many  church-members 
who  were  disagreeable  to  her,  and  some  of  the  people  she 
liked  best  did  not  profess  to  be  Christians.  Did  she  lack 
the  sign?  As  she  listened  to  the  prayers  of  these 
strangers,  she  found  her  heart  wanning  with  friendliness 
towards  them,  and  the  more  so  tlie  more  loving,  and 
humble,  and  sincere  the  petition  sounded.  The  cracked 
voice  of  a  little  old  man  who  sat  near  her  had  been  wan- 
dering up  and  down  in  search  of  the  tune,  in  such  a  comi- 
cal fashion  that  she  found  it  hard  to  keep  sober ;  but  when 
lie  was  called  upon  to  pray,  and  she  heard  his  tender,  ear- 
nest pleading  for  God's  blessing  on  the  young  people  of 
the  congregation,  she  felt  a  reverence  for  him.  When 
he  tried  to  sing  the  next  time,  she  had  no  inclination  to 


ESMADUEA.  163 

smile.  "  I  do  love  the  Spirit  of  Clirist ;  I  know  I  do," 
she  said  to  herself.  "  I  can't  love  a  coarse  or  hard,  opiu- 
ionated,  censorious  person,  or  a  sanctimonious  one,  just 
because  he  calls  himseK  by  the  name  of  Christ ;  but  I 
believe  I  do  love  people  just  so  far  as  they  show  by  their 
spirit  that  they  are  His  brethren.'' 

There  is  something  sweet  in  worshiping  with  an  as- 
sembly where  the  only  bond  is  the  common  love  for  one 
Saviour,  and  all  the  every-day  pettinesses  that  neighbors 
cannot  but  see  in  each  other  are  unknown.  Theodora 
felt  that  she  had  indeed  worsliiped  God  with  His  people, 
as  she  sat  in  the  little  church,  catching  glimpses  of  the 
blue  heavens  through  the  grace  of  swaying  branches. 

After  they  were  dismissed,  she  stood  on  the  door-step, 
interested  to  watch  the  people  as  they  loitered  on  the 
green  in  front  of  the  church. 

That  group  of  men  are  talking  about  the  election  ;  she 
knows  it  by  the  decided  nods  that  emphasize  their  opin- 
ions ;  if  it  were  a  week  day  they  would  be  gesturing  with 
both  ai-ms.  Here  is  an  old  mother  telling  a  young  one 
in  Sabbatical  tones,  what  is  the  best  treatment  for 
croup.  The  knot  of  lads  and  lasses  yonder  is  getting  so 
hilarious  as  to  draw  disapproving  glances  from  their 
elders.  There  is  a  Sunday-school  teacher  having  a  few 
last  words  with  one  of  her  little  boys.  How  persuasive 
and  serious  her  face  looks,  and  how  sheepishly  he  digs 
his  toe  into  the  turf  !  Now  people  are  mounting.  There 
goes  the  young  mother  who  has  learned  how  to  cure  the 
croup.  She  is  on  a  white  pony,  and  has  a  beautiful  two- 
year-old  boy  in  her  lap  ;  her  husband  walks  beside  her, 
and  they  look  like  the  Holy  Family  going  into  Egypt. 
Here,  a  family  carriage  is  taking  its  freight,  but  the  eyes 
of  the  new-comer  follow  the  riders. 


1 64  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORV. 

"  Ton  see  the  old  lady  on  a  sorrel  boi-se,  just  starting 
from  under  that  oak  tree  ?''  asked  Bessie. 

"  With  such  a  faded  riding-skirt,  and  such  a  nice,  grand- 
motherly face?" 

"  Yes ;  she  is  over  seventy  years  old,  and  she  never  rode 
in  a  carriage."  i 

The  old  lady  sat  talking  with  a  neighbor,  as  much  at 
ease  as  if  at  home  in  her  rocking-chair,  while  the  old 
sorrel  tried  to  kick  off  a  fly. 

"  Wouldn't  yon  like  to  try  Elfie  ?"  asked  Kate.  "  She 
will  be  sure  to  behave  well  going  home,  I  think,  and  she 
goes  so  much  easier.'' 

"  Thank  you  ;  if  you  think  it  safe,  I  should." 

"  Just  feel  safe,  hold  a  taut  rein,  and  you  will  be  safe.'' 

They  wertded  their  way  slowly  down  the  hill.  A  few 
of  the  people  were  on  foot,  a  good  many  in  carriages,  but 
far  the  greater  number  on  horseback.  They  could  be 
seen  singly,  in  pairs,  or  cavalcades,  turning  off  under  the 
trees  on  all  the  hill  roads.  The  sight  was  so  pretty,  that 
Theodora  almost  forgot  herself,  till  Eliie,  as  if  at  a  wink 
from  Will's  colt  beside  her,  bounded  off  in  a  swift  can- 
ter. The  new  sensation  took  away  her  breath  for  the 
instant,  but  directly  she  felt  secure  in  her  seat,  and  gave 
herself  up  to  the  exhilarating  motion.  It  was  a  new  joy. 
A  delicious  sense  of  freedom  and  power  thrilled  through 
every  nerve.  Dark  arches  of  the  bridge,  trees  mirrored 
in  the  stream,  children  by  the  wayside,  a  white  cloud 
floating  in  the  blue,  friends  riding  beside,  the  rhythmic 
beat  of  hoofs  on  the  highway,  all  blended  unreckoned  in 
a  tide  of  triumphant  life  and  delight,  as  they  flew  over 
the  road.  But  now  the  horses  sober  themselves  for 
work  as  they  turn  from  the  level  pike,  and  the  pleasure 
changes  from  that  intoxicating  draught  to  a  leisurely- 


ESMADUEA.  165 

sipping  of  beauty  and  enjoyment,  as  they  climb  tlie  forest 
road  to  the  home.  Two  or  three  young  friends  of  the 
Bradleys  joined  them.  Theodora  thought  them  sensible, 
pleasant-looking  young  men,  and  remarked  especially  that 
they  rode  as  if  they  had  been  "  raised  "  in  the  saddle. 

As  they  rode  up,  Mr.  Bradley  was  sitting  on  the  porch 
with  a  large  Bible  on  his  knee,  and  Rover  beside  him, 
lying  with  his  nose  on  his  paws.  He  gave  them  a  pleasant 
greeting,  and  said  to  his  niece,  "  I  seldom  go  to  church 
for  I  cannot  hear  well ;  I  am  contented  to  get  my  sermons 
at  headcjuarters,"  tapping  the  open  Bible  with  his  spec- 
tacles. 

After  dinner  there  was  a  nice  long  time  to  read ;  then 
the  cousins  had  a  pleasant  walk  and  talk,  going  out  to 
one  of  the  hill-tops  on  the  farm. 

"  This  is  the  first  time  I  ever  was  in  a  place  where  1 
felt  sure  it  was  right  to  go  to  walk,  Sunday,''  said  Theo- 
dora. "  In  a  town,  if  one  may  go,  another  may,  and  in- 
stead of  a  lovely  solitude  where  God's  beautiful  world 
will  help  on  your  Sabbath,  it  becomes  a  general  prome- 
nade, where  you  are  just  noticing  your  neighbors,  or  gos- 
siping with  them.  Now  here,  the  home  spreads  over 
two  or  three  hundred  acres,  so  that  you  can  have  the 
good  of  all  this  beauty,  and  yet  not  meet  anybody." 

In  the  twilight,  they  gathered  around  the  piano  in  tlie 
parlor, — for  what  home  is  complete  without  its  Sunday 
evening  "sing?''  As  she  joined  in  the  old  tunes,  which 
she  knew 'her  dearest  ones  would  be  singing  also,  Theo- 
dora felt  that  it  was  rounding  out  a  golden  day,  and  she 
was  nestling  into  a  second  home. 


XIV. 

LIFE     IN     THE     SMOKE. 

HER  week  at  Esmadura  made  Theodora  feel  tliat 
whatever  her  city  experience  might  prove,  the 
strength  of  the  hills  was  behind  her.  Life  there  refreshed 
lier. 

To  spend  a  whole  day  at  a  time,  hearing  only  the 
natm-al  farm  noises,  seeing  nobody  but  the  genial  family 
she  was  in,  yet  knowing  that  in  the  comfortable  farm- 
houses that  could  be  seen  throned  amid  their  piincipali- 
ties  of  beautiful  hills,  miles  away,  on  every  side,  were 
pleasant  neighbors ;  this  was  an  odd  contrast  to  the  rush 
and  whirl  of  New  York. 

The  ways  of  the  people  were  altogether  different  from 
her  notions  of  the  South.  Rich  farmers  and  their  families 
worked  with  then*  own  hands ;  but  they  had  nothing  of 
the  cramped  and  rugged  look  of  people  who  had  grown 
old  before  their  time,  wresting  a  living  from  a  reluctant 
soil. 

Her  cousins'  friends  whom  she  met  were  lively,  sensible 
young  people,  with  a  frank,  hearty  manner,  though  a  lit- 
tle shy  of  her  at  first.  Some  dreadfully  disagreeable 
characters  must  have  gone,  at  an  early  day,  from  the  East 
to  the  West  and  South,  else  the  stock  idea  of  a  Yankee, 
as  a  critical,  supercilious,  stingy,  hair-splitting  personage 
could  not  have  risen  and  held  its  ground  in  the  face  of  all 
the  thousands  of  cordial,  generous  New  Englanders  who 
(166) 


LITE   EST    TnE    SMOKE.  167 

liave  made  tliemselves  loved  and  lionored  wherever  thej 
Lave  gone. 

It  was  one  of  the  brightest  of  September  mornings 
that  Mr.  Bradley  took  his  niece  into  Wheeling  to  intro- 
duce her  to  her  new  home.  The  smoky  canopy  of  the 
city  looked  comparatively  gauzy,  and  only  toned  down 
the  sunshine  to  an  opaline  glow  as  they  came  under  its 
shadow. 

Directly  on  entering  the  town,  he  turned  into  the 
street  which  ran  along  the  high  bank  of  the  river.  Here 
were  inviting  dwelling-houses  and  a  beautiful  background 
of  Ohio  hills.  Theodora  chose  to  amuse  her  curiosity 
rather  than  ask  questions,  but  she  waited  eagerly  to  see  if 
this  was  the  street.  Here  was  really  a  pleasant  edge  to 
the  dreaded  town.  She  picked  out  the  house  she  wished 
it  would  be — not  the  most  modern  in  the  row,  but  one 
that  looked  like  an  old  family  mansion,  as  if  three  or 
four  generations  of  sons  and  daughters  had  moved  about 
among  the  tall  columns  that  supported  its  gable.  The 
grass-plot  in  front  of  this  was  the  brightest  green  of  them 
all,  and  there  was  a  broad  gleam  of  the  river  to  be  caught 
between  it  and  its  next  neighbor. 

"  Is  this  Mr.  Torrington's  ? "  she  asked,  in  sui-prise,  as 
lier  uncle  drew  up  in  front  of  this  very  house. 

"  Yes,  this  is  your  abiding-place  for  the  present." 

The  uncomfortable  sensation  that  she  was  going  to  be 
scrutinized  was  almost  forgotten  in  her  pleasure  at  find- 
ing the  place  itself  so  much  more  agreeable  than  she  had 
dreamed  of. 

The  next  day  she  wrote  to  Miriam  : 

"  I  like  them  all,  and  they  act  as  if  they  liked  me.  I 
dreaded  Mrs.  Torrington,  but  she  met  me  so  cordially  I 
was  captivated  at  once.     She  is  a  new  kind  in  my  little 


168  theodoea:  a  home  stoet. 

world  and  interests  me  immensly.  Southern  all  through. 
I  can  see  already  that  she  holds  all  classes  and  conditions 
of  women  who  work  for  a  living  to  be  made  of  some  dif- 
ferent dust  from  her,  and  I  should  have  expected  she 
would  hold  me  at  a  distance  ;  but  she  chooses  to  look  on 
me  as  the  niece  of  her  husband's  friend,  rather  than  as  a 
music-teacher.  She  is  fairly  affectionate  in  her  manner 
since  a  sing  we  had  last  night.  She  has  a  full,  sweet  so- 
prano voice,  not  highly  cultivated,  but  unspoiled,  and 
she  seemed  delighted  to  have  a  contralto  to  sing  with. 
She  declares  I  must  take  her,  as  well  as  the  children, 
under  my  tuition. 

"  They  did  not  say  so  in  set  tenns,  but  they  showed  in 
many  ways  that  they  were  not  a  little  pleased  with  my 
music,  especially  the  smging.  Mrs.  Torrington  is  a 
brunette,  with  a  clear,  olive  skin,  veiy  large,  brilliant 
eyes,  with  such  long,  thick  eyelashes  that  they  make  al- 
most as  much  impression  when  the  hds  droop  as  when 
they  are  lifted.  She  must  have  been  married  ver}^  young ; 
Aleck,  the  oldest  boy,  looks  more  like  her  younger 
brother  than  her  son.  He  is  a  lively,  good-natured  fel- 
low, who  has  evidently  been  getting  inches  faster  than  he 
knows  what  to  do  with  them.  His  mother  is  continually 
making  fun  of  him  for  some  awkwardness  or  conse- 
quential remark,  but,  at  the  same  time,  as  he  and  every  one 
else  can  see,  she  is  extremely  fond  of  him.  The  girl, 
Carolina  {South  Carolina,  I  suppose),  called  Cari'o,  and 
spelled  Caro,  who  is  to  be,  I  suppose,  my  chief  charge,  is 
a  miniatm'e  of  her  mother,  though  that  style  is  not  so 
handsome  for  a  child  as  for  a  woman.  The  little  girl  has 
one  charm  in  her  face,  howevei*,  which  Mrs.  T.  has  not. 
At  the  least  excitement,  a  j'ieh  color  flushes  up  under  her 
dark  skin  ;  then  it  dies  away  as  suddenly  as  it  came.     So 


LIFE   IN   THE    SMOKE.  169 

far,  she  sits  and  gazes  at  rae  with  her  big  ejes,  and  says 
nothing.  It  would  go  hard  if  she  shouldn't  like  me ;  she 
has  a  will  of  her  own,  if  that  decided  little  chin  tells  the 
truth.  Mr.  Torrington  is  a  fine,  dignified-looking  man — 
seems  more  like  a  judge  than  an  attorney.  It  did  me 
good  to  hear  him  talk  about  Uncle  Graham  this  morning 
— he  couldn't  have  more  respect  for  the  moral  character, 
of  the  Angel  Abdiel.  Mrs.  T.  speaks  of  her  husband  as 
several  years  older  than  herself,  and  he  certainly  looks 
so.  But  I  mustn't  leave  out  the  rest  of  the  family ! 
Bless  their  little  hearts,  no  indeed  !  There  is  a  brace  of 
the  cunnmgest  little  girls  that  ever  your  eyes  lighted  upon 
— twins,  two  years  old — Pinky- Winky  they  call  them,  as 
if  they  were  a  double  little  girl  instead  of  two.  I  believe 
the  first  one  is  named  Heniietta  Josephine  Pinknej^  Tor- 
rington, and  the  other  Winifred  AVilhelmina  Sumter  T. 
The  small  women  being  unable  to  stagger  on  under  these 
stupendous  designations,  have  been  let  down  to  Pinky 
for  Pinkney,  and  Winky  for  Winifred.  I  wish  you  could 
see  them ;  they  are  pretty  and  cute  beyond  all  telhng. 
Their  nurse,  Phillis,  is  a  black  woman,  as  imposing  as 
Candace,  queen  of  the  Ethiopians,  and  she  loves  these 
two  bairns  like  the  two  great  white  apples  of  her  eyes. 
It  is  a  sight  for  a  painter  to  see  her  broad,  bronze  face, 
with  a  red  turban  above  it,  and  these  fair  little  faces 
cuddled  down  in  her  black  neck  on  either  side.  All  the 
servants  are  colored — the  cook,  a  perfect  study  of  gro 
tesqueness.  Yiolet,  the  chamber  girl,  would  be  quite 
handsome  if  her  lips  didn't  roll  out  so  as  if  her  mouth 
had  been  popped,  like  a  kernel  of  com.  Csesar,  who 
waits  on  the  table,  feels  the  dignity  of  his  office  as  much 
as  if  he  were  Grand  Vizier,  and  sets  down  a  plate  of  rolls 
with  as  dramatic  a  flourish  as  if  it  wei'e  the  culminating 
8 


170  THEODORA  '.    A   HOME   STOKY. 

act  of  his  career.  I  have  only  five  minutes  more  before 
this  goes  to  the  ofiice,  but  I  must  just  tell  you  that  the 
view  from  the  whole  back  of  the  house — my  room  in- 
cluded— is  charming.  The  river  is  muddy,  to  be  sure, 
after  our  lovely,  pure  Connecticut,  but  there  are  a  hun- 
dred shadows  and  reflections  to  disguise  that ;  the  bridge, 
the  steamboats,  the  smiset  among  the  hills  opposite,  the 
red  hght  of  the  nail  factory  do^vn  the  river  at  night — I 
wish  you  could  see  them  all !  Be  sm-e  and  write  every 
week,  faithfully,  to 

"YouK  Fak-awat  Sister." 

Three  months  later  she  wrote : 

"  I  have  been  holding  on  to  my  patience  with  both 
hands  all  day,  and  it  is  a  great  relief  to  let  go,  and  just 
sit  down  at  this  river  window  and  have  a  chat  with  my 
Miriam. 

"  In  the  first  place,  just  as  I  was  ready  for  breakfast, 
I  caught  my  gown  on  my  trunk,  and  tore  one  of  those 
beautiful  little  three-cornered  rents,  and  had  to  stop  and 
dam  it.  I  wonder  if  I  shall  ever  be  old  enough  to  be 
done  tearing  my  clothes  !  Your  garments  always  sweep 
gracefully  past,  intact ;  and  mine,  though  I  follow  in 
exactly  the  same  track,  make  malicious  little  flouts  and 
swings  on  purpose  to  catch  on  every  nail  or  splinter  that 
affords  the  slightest  chance. 

"  Then  when  I  went  downstairs,  I  found  Mi*s.  Torring- 
ton  in  a  rage  at  Caro.  Keally  in  a  rage  !  It  passes  my 
nnderstanding  how  such  a  lovely  woman  could  scold  so ! 
Most  of  the  time,  she  is  delightful  in  the  family ;  she 
shows  every  day  that  she  loves  her  husband  and  children 
with  all  her  heart ;  she  counts  nothing  too  much  to  do 
for  her  friends;  but  when  anything  provokes  her,  she 


LIFE   IN    THE    SMOKE.  171 

literally  ^  gets  mad.'  I  don't  suppose  she  would  believe, 
afterward,  if  anyone  should  tell  her,  what  cruel  things 
she  says  when  she  is  in  a  passion.  She  forgets  them  ; 
she  spends  her  fury  and  comes  out,  after  a  little,  as  bright 
and  generous  as  ever  ;  but  those  that  hear  cannot  forget. 
She  can't  scatter  '  firebrands,  arrows,  and  death,'  that 
way,  without  leaving  fires  to  smoulder  and  wounds  to 
rankle,  long  after  she  has  forgotten  all  about  it.  It  was 
awful  to  hear  her  talk  so  to  Caro.  I  didn't  think  the 
child  was  so  very  much  to  blame ;  and  if  she  had  been, 
that  would  only  have  made  it  worse.  She  inherits  her 
mother's  traits,  and  it  seemed  so  imjust  to  give  her  that 
mettlesome  temper,  and  then  lash  it  into  madness !  It 
made  my  blood  boil.  We  never  can  be  thankful  enough, 
Miriam,  for  a  father  and  mother  that  control  their  tem- 
per. I  don't  think  we  ever  were  scolded  in  our  lives,  do 
you  ?  Reproved  and  expostulated  with  and  all  that ;  by 
all  means  made  to  mind,  but  I  can't  remember  either 
father  or  mother  saying  a  cross  word  to  me.  And  it 's 
odd,  Mrs.  Torrington  never  seems  to  blame  herself.  I 
believe  she  is  a  Christian  woman.  She  talks  and  acts 
like  it,  in  many  ways,  but  it  really  seems  as  if  she  thought 
she  did  well  to  be  angiy.  She  doesn't  bring  her  con- 
science to  bear  upon  it.  While  I  feel  so  ashamed  for 
her  that  I  can  hardly  stay  in  the  room,  I  believe  that  she 
doesn't  feel  at  all  that  she  is  doing  anything  unbecoming 
a  lady  or  a  Christian.  I  felt  dreadfully  about  Caro  this 
morning,  for  she  is  trying  to  learn  to  rule  herself.  She 
is  a  dear  child — you  don't  know  what  a  devoted  little 
lover  of  mine  she  is.  Only  last  evening,  I  had  an  ear- 
nest talk  with  her  about  mastering  her  temper,  and  then 
to  have  her  own  mother  burst  out  upon  her  so ! 

"  Well — ^grievance  ISTo.  3  wasn't  so  very  serious,  stiU  it 


172  THEODORA  !    A   HOME    STOKT. 

gave  my  patience  a  nudge  in  the  '  crazy  bone.'  I  was  to 
go,  for  the  lirst  time,  to  Mrs.  Maynard's  to  give  a  lesson. 
I  knew  tbey  were  rather  grand  people,  and  I  wanted  to 
make  a  creditable  impression,  so  I  put  on  my  bran-new 
kid  gloves ;  ninning  downstairs,  I  laid  my  hand  on  the 
balustrade,  and  when  I  got  to  the  bottom,  there  was  my 
glove  black  with  smut !  This  coal  dust  is  an  ugly  thing 
to  be  sprinkled  over  one's  existence.  You  never  could 
endure  it,  you  dainty  Lady-bird  !  They  take  nice  care  of 
the  house — do  cleaning  enough  every  day  to  last  a  New 
England  house  a  month  ;  but  this  fine  soot  is  driving  in 
all  the  time,  at  every  crevice,  and  om*  own  fires,  while  they 
blaze  in  a  style  to  shame  hard  coal,  are  all  the  time  giving 
it  off.  Every  little  while  I  find  my  hands  looking  as  if 
they  were  struck  with  mortification.  I  lay  my  handker- 
chief on  the  table  and  take  it  up,  peppered  with  coal- 
dust.  I  have  been  giving  lessons  all  day  ;  last  of  all,  to 
a  young  woman  who  makes  discords  with  the  serenest 
countenance  I  ever  saw.  I  explain  and  correct,  play  it 
for  her,  say  '  Kow  you  will  do  it  right ;'  she  gazes  in- 
tently at  the  piano  all  the_  while.  Then  she  lifts  those 
'  awful  paws '  and  poimds  down  exactly  as  she  did  in  the 
first  place.  I  came  near  falling  into  the  same  sin  I  had 
been  shocked  at  and  scolding  the  girl,  but  I  am  satisfied 
she  is  not  careless ;  she  is  stupid,  and  has  no  more  ear  for 
music  than  a  mule  ;  to  upbraid  her  for  those  misfortunes 
would  be  about  as  mean  as  to  taunt  a  hunchback  with  his 
deformity.  So,  as  I  said  in  the  first  place,  I  held  on  to 
my  patience  by  main  force. 

"  There,  now,  my  dear,  I  feel  relieved — ^having  dumped 
my  load  of  vexations  at  your  feet.  Ton  can  excuse  me, 
as  the  big  man  did  his  little  wife  for  beating  him :  'It 
reheves  her,  and  doesn't  hurt  me.'     I  ought  to  have  re- 


LIFE    m    THE    SMOKE.  173 

marked,  that  most  of  my  music-class  are  as  promising 
girls  as  I  could  ask  for ;  and  as  to  Mrs.  Torrington,  you 
must  know  she  has  never  shown  me  anything  but  courte- 
sy and  kindness,  and  I  really  love  and  admire  her,  in 
spite  of  her  temper.  Her  children — whom  she  loves  like 
her  own  life — have  to  take  the  brunt  of  that.  After 
all,  she  is  a  much  better  mother  than  Mrs.  Jack  Walton. 
It  harms  children  less  to  be  blown  sky-high  once  in  a 
wliile  than  it  does  to  be  pecked  at  the  whole  time.  These 
children  love  their  mother,  and  they  fear  her.  It  seemed 
as  if  the  little  Waltons  did  neither  the  one  nor  the  other. 
Mr.  ToiTington  never  scolds.  He  knows  how  to  be  stern, 
but  he  is  usually  very  pleasant  with  the  children,  and  can 
command  them  with  a  look.  He  is  a  very  interesting 
talker.  He  is  not  a  politician,  but  he  likes  to  look  into 
the  history  and  philosophy  of  politics ;  and  there  is  noth- 
ing I  like  better  than  to  get  him  to  discussing  such  sub- 
jects, especially  if  some  other  gentleman  is  present  who 
knows  enough  to  enter  into  it  with  him.  How  every 
family,  or  at  least  every  profession,  has  its  own  line  of 
conversation  !  I  enjoy  hearing  Mr.  T.  and  his  guests 
talk  over  courts  and  cases  just  as  I  did,  at  home,  the  theo- 
logical debates  and  parish  affairs.  In  the  Walton  table- 
talk,  the  world  seemed  built  for  business-men,  and,  at 
Uncle  Bradley's,  for  the  farmers. 

"  You  will  have  to  give  your  girls  a  holiday  to  get  time 
to  read  this  long  epistle.  All  about  myself,  too  !  What 
of  that  ?     I  like  to  have  you  write  all  about  yourself. 

"  How  little  we  can  get  into  a  letter  !     I  have  yards  of 
things  to  say  ;  but  I  must  stop  for  this  time. 
"  I  am,  now, 

"  Quite  a  good-natured 

"  Theodora." 


174  THEODORA:    A   HOME    STOEY. 

Her  own  letters  gave  little  idea  liow  strong  an  influence 
the  young  music-teacher  was  exerting.  In  fact,  she  did 
not  f  ullj  know.  Her  pupils  found  her  a  good  teacher ; 
she  not  only  drilled  them  well,  but  she  showed  a  rare 
faculty  for  opening  their  souls  to  the  meaning  and  beauty 
of  music.  Still,  she  would  have  been  dissatisfied  if  she 
could  have  done  no  more  than  this  for  them.  She  felt 
that  to  influence  character  is  the  only  work  that  will  last. 
Her  own  spirituality  had  deepened  through  the  experi- 
ences of  the  year  past;  and  she  tried,  in  a  hundred 
friendly  ways,  to  win  the  girls,  who  gave  her  their  love, 
to  the  service  of  Christ,  and  to  inspire  their  lives  with 
sweetness  and  strength. 


XV. 

THE       PANIC. 

TBDE  Camerons  were  all  together  for  the  first  time  in 
two  years.  It  was  in  July,  of  the  ever-inemorahle 
year  1861.  First  came  Miriam,  from  Downington — be- 
ginning to  get  a  certain  queenliness  of  womanhood  as 
time  developed  and  solidified  her  figure,  and  responsi- 
bility added  a  sense  of  strength  to  her  shy,  proud  digmty 
of  old.  She  had  been  resting,  telHng  stories  of  her  ex- 
perience to  Faith  and  Jessie,  and  holding  consultations 
with  the  father  and  mother,  only  a  few  days,  when  Don- 
ald came  home  from  college,  stih  aglow  from  his  success 
at  Junior  exhibition. 

"  He  isn't  so  handsome  as  he  used  to  be,"  said  Faith, 
regretfully,  to  Miriam,  after  they  had  gone  upstairs,  at 
night. 

"  But  he  will  be  handsomer." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  He  has  lost  that  rich 
color  he  used  to  have,  and  his  face  looks  like  a  field  of 
Winter  wheat  just  sprouting,  in  patches." 

"What  of  all  that?  The  color  was  beautiful  for  a 
boy,  but  it  wouldn't  look  well  for  a  man,  and  the  beard 
will  be  an  ornament  to  his  face,  a  few  months  hence. 
What  a  strong,  graceful  figure  he  has  already." 

"  He  has  improved  in  manner  very  much,  within  the 
year,  at  any  rate,"  said  Faith.  "  He  has  nearly  got  over 
that  self-sufficient  air  he  had  when  he  came  home  Sopho- 

(175) 


170  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

more.  Don't  you  notice  how  much  more  deferential  he 
is  towards  father  ? " 

"  Yes,''  answered  Miriam,  "  and  more  gentle  with 
mother,  too.  I  do  delight  in  seeing  Donald  and  mother 
together — he  is  so  rogitish  and  charming  with  her,  and 
she  is  so  fond  and  proud  with  him." 

A  few  days  later  came  Robert  from  Minnesota — 
called  East  by  Lusiness  with  Mr.  ^Yalton,  and,  witli  him, 
Theodora,  who  had  joined  him  on  the  way.  So  now  the 
house  was  ringing  with  young  life. 

Home  is  very  dear  to  an  only  child ;  but  what  does  the 
poor  creature  know  of  the  rapturous  welcomes,  the  dear 
old  jokes,  the  spicy  family  allusions,  the  racy  gossip,  the 
frank  criticisms  and  no  less  frank  praises  of  each  other ; 
in  short,  of  all  the  reechoing  joys  that  make  up  that 
climax  of  "  sacred  and  home-felt  delight"  which  a  house- 
ful of  brothers  and  sisters  enjoy  when  they  come  home 
from  a  dispersion  ? 

"  Who  could  have  imagined  it  would  be  in  time  of  war 
that  we  should  meet  again ! "  exclaimed  the  mother,  as 
they  were  gathered  around  the  breakfast-table  the  first 
morning. 

"  Don't  you  know,  mother,"  asked  Donald,  "  how 
wrought  up  we  used  to  be  with  your  stories  of  our  great- 
grandfather's exploits  in  the  Revolution  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  used  to  wish  I  could  live  in  such  grand  times," 
said  Theodora.  "  I  was  sure  I  should  do  something 
heroic." 

"  '  Such  grand  times '  are  pleasanter  to  hear  about  than 
to  live  in,"  said  Miriam,  with  a  shudder. 

"  Will  this  war  be  seven  years  long  ? "  asked  Jessie, 
who  w^as  fresh  from  United  States'  history,  and  anxious 
to  make  use  of  her  information. 


THE   PANIC.  177 

The  family  lauglied  at  the  idea  of  a  seven-years'  war, 
and  Robert  remarked : 

"No  doubt  this  rebellion  will  be  put  down  in  the 
course  of  six  months." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  saild  his  father.  "  It  is  the 
same  blood  on  both  sides, — resolute,  courageous,  persistent. 
Wealth  and  numbers  are  in  favor  of  the  North ;  but  the 
South  is  far  better  trained  in  the  arts  of  war ;  nearly  all 
the  West  Point  officers  are  on  their  side.  They  have  been 
years  preparing  for  this  veiy  effort,  so  that  they  have  an 
immense  advantage  to  begin  with ;  now  that  they  have 
joined  issue,  they  must  feel  that  everything  is  at  stake, 
and  I  fear  there  is  a  long,  desperate  struggle  before 
us." 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  hear  of  a  great  victory  this  morn- 
ing, which  will  turn  the  scale,"  said  Faith. 

The  papers  of  the  day  before  had  been  full  of  reports 
of  a  coming  engagement. 

"  Do  you  remember,  Donald,  that  speech  of  Webster's 
you  used  to  be  so  fond  of  declaiming  ? "  asked  the  mother, 
as  they  rose  from  the  table.  "  '  When  my  eyes ' — what 
was  that  ? " 

Striking  into  the  tones  and  gestures  of  his  boyish  elo- 
quence, Donald  repeated  : 

"  '  When  my  eyes  shall  be  turned  to  behold  for  the  last 
time  the  suri  in  heaven,  may  I  not  see  him  shining  on  the 
broken  and  dishonored  fragments  of  a  once  glorious 
Union  ;  on  States  dissevered,  discordant,  belligerent ;  on 
a  land  rent  with  civil  feuds  or  drenched,  it  may  be,  in 
fraternal  blood !  Let  their  last  feeble  and  lingering  glance 
rather  behold  the  glorious  ensign  of  the  republic,  now 
known  and  honored  through  all  the  earth,  still  full  high 
advanced,  its  arms  and  trophies  streaming  in  their 
8* 


178  theodoka:  a  home  stoky. 

original  lustre,  not  a  stripe  erased  or  polluted,  nor  a  single 
star  obscured  I '  " 

"  1  used  to  think  tluit  was  merely  a  rhetorical  Hourish," 
said  Miriam.  "  1  did  not  suppose  anyone  really  thought 
that  the  Union  could  be  distm-bed, — least  of  all,  in  our 
day." 

As  the  family  were  about  dispersing  after  prayers,  the 
father  already  gone  to  his  study,  Theodora  said : 

"  Xow,  mother,  give  us  all  om*  work,  just  as  you  used 
to,  won't  you  ? " 

"Yes,  do  ! "  the  rest  chimed  in. 

"  Only  don't  make  me  rock  the  cradle,  as  you  used 
to  ! "  said  Robert.     "  How  I  did  hate  it ! " 

"Why,  I  always  thought  you  were  very  good  about 
it,"  said  his  mother,  smiling  up  into  his  eyes,  with  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  his  arm  around  her. 

"  Well,  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  help  you  raise  this 
promising  family,"  said  he,  with  a  comprehensive  gesture 
towards  the  group  laughing  and  talking  around  them. 

"  But  you  despised  it  for  a  womanish  occupation — " 
said  Miriam. 

"And  inwardly  chafed,  like  Achilles,  with  his  distaff," 
added  Faith. 

"  I  did  it,  though ;  I  rocked  you  every  one,"  said  the 
eldest  brother.  "  Nobody  knows,  unless  it's  mother,  here, 
what  I  have  been  through  with  you ;  how  contrary  you 
were,  and  how,  the  more  I  rocked  you,  the  more  you 
wouldn't  go  to  sleep." 

"  We  are  more  than  thankful ;  do  let  us  repay  your 
kindness,"  exclaimed  Donald  ;  and  in  a  twinkling  they 
had  him  down  in  the  great  rocking-chair  which  stood  be- 
hind him,  and  all  five  of  them  were  holding  him  in  and 
rocking  him  f m-iously,  singing,  "  Rock-a-by-baby "  and 


THE   PAJSIC.  179 

"  Hush,  my  dear,"  between  their  shouts  of  laughter,  as 
they  resisted  his  frantic  efforts  to  escape  them.  He  was 
more  than  a  match  for  them  all,  Itowever,  and  presently 
brolie  loose  and  shook  himself,  saying : 

"  There,  mother,  you  see  what  a  set  they  are  ;  after  alJ 
the  pains  we  have  taken  with  them,  how  they  do  be- 
have ! " 

She  had  looked  on,  laughing,  and  begging  them  to  spare 
the  rocking-chair. 

"  Just  as  anxious  to  get  to  work  as  they  used  to  be, 
aren't  they,  Robert?" 

"  Oh,  yes !  what  shall  we  do  ? "  they  asked,  as  they 
suddenly  sobered  and  stood  around  her,  demurely. 

How  happy  she  looked,  between  her  tall  sons,  with  her 
four  bright  daughters  about  her,  even  Jessie,  who  nestled 
most  closely,  by  right  of  the  youngest,  almost  as  tall  as 
herself ! 

Time  has  wrought  the  ten  years  of  hard  but  happy 
work,  since  we  saw  her  first,  into  her  face  and  figure,  but 
he  has  done  it  with  a  tender  touch,  like  the  true  servant 
of  Him  who  hath  made  everything  beautiful  in  its  season. 
The  frost  shed  upon  her  dark  hair  only  brings  it  into 
perfect  harmony  with  the  fainter  tints  and  the  softened 
outlines  of  her  face,  the  sweeter  peace  of  her  blue 
eyes. 

"  The  boys,"  she  said,  "  may,  first  of  all,  go  down 
street,  and  bring  us  the  news  from  the  seat  of  war  ; 
Mii'iam  may  put  the  chambers  and  sitting-room  in  order; 
Theodora  we  won't  ask  to  do  anything,  but  unpack  her 
trunk,  this  morning ;  Faith  will  have  to  clear  aw^ay  the 
breakfast  things,  I  think,  and  Jessie  may  help — " 

"  Oh,  mother ! "  she  broke  in,  "  do  let  me  help  Theo- 
dora." 


180  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STOKT. 

"  She  doesn't  need  you  ;  she  would  rather  take  care  of 
her  own  things." 

"  Miriam,  then — let  me  help  Miriam." 

"Ah,  I  see  to  the  bottom  of  your  deep  designs,"  said 
Faith ;  "  you  want  to  get  upstairs,  where  you  can  see 
everything  Theodora  takes  out  of  her  trunk  and  hear 
everything  she  says.  Jessie  is  a  fickle  courtier,"  she  went 
on,  pulling  a  handful  of  the  child's  sunny  curls.  "  It's 
'  The  King  is  dead !  Long  live  the  King ! '  with  her. 
She  always  sticks  to  the  last  airival." 

"  You  had  better  wipe  the  dishes  for  Faith,"  said  Miriam. 

Jessie  looked  wofully  divided  in  mind. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Faith,  "  let  her  go  upstairs  and  help 
make  the  beds,  what  time  she  isn't  sitting  on  the  edge  of 
Theodora's  trunk." 

"  And  the  mother  of  them  all,"  said  Mrs.  Cameron, 
"  will  be  making  a  dinner  they  used  to  hke." 

"  Oh,  what « "  "I  know ! "  "I  guess—" 

"  ISTone  of  your  guesses ;  it  is  a  state  secret  and  I  sha'n't 
tell — ^now  go  about  your  work,  children  !  " 

HaK  an  hour  later.  Faith  came  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
with  a  plate  in  one  hand,  and  a  clean  soft  wiping-towel  in 
the  other,  called : 

"  Don't  be  interesting,  girls !  Don't  let  Theodora  tell 
anything  till  I  come." 

"  Oh  !  she  is  telling  us  about  coming  through  Baltimore, 
and  seeing  just  where  the  Massachusetts  Sixth  was 
attacked,"  said  Jessie,  running  to  the  head  of  the  stairs ; 
"  you  can't  think  how  interesting  it  is  ! " 

"  'No,  no !  You  mustn't  teU  that,  I  want  to  hear  every 
word  of  it,"  said  Faith. 

"  Come  up  and  hear  it  then,"  said  Theodora.  "  You 
can't  think  how  real  it  made  the  war — " 


THE  PAsric.  181 

"  Of  coTirse  it  did ;  but  don't  yon  see  it  takes  all  raj 
virtue  to  stay  down  here,  washing  these  dishes,  when  you 
are  having  such  a  delicious  time  up  there?  See  here, 
Miriam,  I  will  change  work  with  yon,  awhile." 

At  this  moment,  the  brothers  came  huniedly  in,  look- 
ing strangely  excited. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Faith.  "  What  is  the  news  ?  " 
called  the  other  sisters,  running  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs. 

"  Bad  enough  ! "  answered  Robert,    "  Where's  father  ? " 

The  study  door  was  ah-eady  open  and  Mr.  Cameron's 
head  appeared  above  those  of  the  girls. 

"  We  are  beaten,"  said  Robert. 

"  Shamefully  beaten !  "  added  Donald,  his  eyes  flashing 
with  hot  tears  of  wrath  and  shame.  "  Our  men  ran  like 
sheep." 

"  Ran  !  "  burst  from  all  lips  with  an  accent  of  dismay. 

Meanwhile  Robert  had  found  his  mother  in  the  pantry, 
and  brought  her,  with  hands  still  floury,  to  hear  the 
sad  news. 

"  J^o  papers  have  come,"  Donald  was  saying,  "  but  the 
dispatch  is  '  Terrible  panic — total  route ' !  " 

"  I  wouldn't  have  beheved  our  men  were  cowards  ["ex- 
claimed Faith. 

"  They  are  not  cowards  ;  they  cannot  be,"  said  Robert ; 
"we  must  hear  something  difl'erent." 

"  If  they  had  only  been  killed,  we  could  have  borne  it," 
said  Theodora,  "  but  to  I'v.n  !  "  and  she  crowded  the  rest 
of  her  sentence  into  a  groan  and  a  clenched  hand. 

"  Their  mothers  and  sisters  don't  say  that,  child.  Let 
us  be  thankful  at  least  for  their  lives,''  said  the  mother. 

"  I  don't  know,"  Theodora  answered.  "  I  believe  a 
dead  lion  is  better  than  a  live  dog.     I  should  rather  any- 


182  THEODORA  C    A    HOME    STORY. 

body  that  I  loved  should  die  like  a  hero,  than"  run  like  a 
coward,  though  he  did  save  his  life  by  it." 

Donald  laid  up  that  word  in  his  heart. 

"  My  wonder  is  that  soldiers  don't  always  run,"  said 
Miriam.  "  I  can't  imagine  how  a  man  can  stand  to  be 
shot  at." 

"  I  suppose  it's  because  he  thinks  more  of  shooting  than 
being  shot,"  said  Faith,  thoughtfully,  rubbing  off  a  morsel 
of  lint  she  had  just  rubbed  on  to  her  plate. 

"  It  is  an  awful  humiliation ! "  said  Mr.  Cameron, 
leaning  back  against  the  door-post  with  his  hands  behind 
him,  and  his  brows  knit.  "We  are  disgraced  before  the 
world,  and  it  will  be  better  to  the  rebels  than  a  reinforce- 
ment of  ten  thousand  men." 

"  Not  much  like  the  spirit  of  '7G,"  remarked  the 
mother,  who  had  drunk  in  pride  of  ancestral  prowess  at 
her  grandfather's  knee.  "  I  am  afraid  our  money-getting 
times  have  killed  out  the  old  heroism." 

"  Then  I  think  human  nature  may  as  well  be  given  up 
as  a  bad  job,"  exclaimed  Donald  impetuously  ;  "  there  is 
no  better  stuff  in  it  than  these  Northern  States  were 
started  with,  and  if  they  cannot  stand  two  or  three 
genei-ations  of  prosperity,  the  world  isn't  worth  living 
in." 

As  he  was  speaking,  the  front  door  opened  and  Mr. 
Joyce,  with  the  privilege  of  a  near  neighbor,  came  in 
wathout  knocking. 

"  Well ! "  he  exclaimed  with  a  grim  smile,  "  'pears  to 
me,  you  don't  look  very  cheerful,  this  morning." 

Donald  was  roving  to  and  fro  like  a  caged  tiger.  Robert, 
half  sitting  on  the  hall  table,  was  absently  beating  his 
boot  with  his  brother's  rattan.  His  mother  was  in  a  chair 
beside   him,  the  flom*  on  her  hands  looking  strikingly 


THE   PANTO.  183 

irrelevant  to  the  solemn  expression  of  her  face.  Faith 
sat  on  the  lowest  stair,  and  Miriam  on  the  uppermost, 
resting  her  chin  on  the  pillow  she  happened  to  have  in 
her  arms  when  she  ran  from  making  the  beds  to  hear  the 
news  ;  her  father  stood  just  behind  her ;  Theodora  sat  on 
the  step  below  her,  with  her  elbows  on  her  knees,  and 
her  face  between  her  hands ;  Jessie  leaned  over  the 
balustrade,  watching  the  rest  and  wondering  whether 
the  rebels  had  got  as  far  as  Boston.  Every  countenance 
was  a  study  of  chagrin  and  dissappointment. 

"  Not  very  cheerful  news  this  morning,"  Mr.  Cameron 
made  answer,  coming  downstairs,  as  he  spoke. 

"  Well,  it's  nothing  more  nor  different  from  what  I 
expected,"  said  Mr.  Joyce ;  "  Yankees  ha'n't  any  fight  in 
'em.  Thousands  of  'em  never  fired  a  gun  before,  in  their 
lives,  and  it  ain't  to  be  wondered  at  they  was  scared 
at  the  sound  of  their  own  fire-arms." 

"  They  will  know  what  the  sound  means  next  time," 
said  Mr.  Cameron ;  "  it  is  not  strange  such  a  thing  should 
happen  with  an  miwieldy  mass  of  raw  ti'oops,  the  first 
time  they  are  brought  into  action.  It  proves  nothing 
against  their  fighting  capacity  nor  their  final  success." 

Mr.  Joyce  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  his  eyebrows. 
"  Now,  Southerners  are  brought  up  to  make  soldiers. 
It's  jest  as  much  a  matter  of  course  for  a  boy  to  learn  to 
shoot  as  to  write." 

"  Ifore,  Mr.  Joyce,"  Robert  j)ut  in, 

"  Then  it's  their  way  to  resent  an  injury  ;  they  ha'n't 
no  scruples  about  it.  Our  folks  are  used  to  dallyin' 
along — goin'  to  com't  and  suin'  for  damages  if  anybody 
interferes  with  'em ;  but  Southerners,  they  pitch  right  in 
and  settle  their  difiiculties  themselves  ;  they're  used  to  it." 

"  That  makes  a  pleasant  state  of  society,"  remarked 


184  xnEoDORA :  a  iio^rE  stokt. 

Faitli ;  "you  are  so  sure  justice  will  l»e  done  when  every- 
body feels  at  liberty  to  pitch  right  into  you,  as  soon  as 
he  supposes  himself  aggrieved." 

"  Guess  our  folks  have  changed  their  minds  a  little 
about  its  bein'  so  dreadful  easy  to  '  whip  the  rebels,' " 
said  Mr.  Joyce,  with  a  silent,  chuckling  laugh  that  made 
the  veins  stand  out  on  his  forehead  ;  "  I  told  'em  they 
didn't  know  what  they  was  about ;  they  'd  find  they  'd 
caught  a  Tartar.  They  was  goin'  to  settle  it  all  in  this 
great  battle,  and  here  they  be,  horse,  foot,  and  dragoons, 
rmmin'  for  dear  hfe — every  one  for  himself  on  a 
double-quick  for  home.  I  should  jest  Hke  to  have  seen 
them  members  of  Congress,  that  went  out  to  see  the 
idct'ry,  takin'  to  their  heels !  "  and  Mr.  J  oyce  threw  him- 
self back  in  his  chair,  and  laughed,  displaying  the  fact 
that  he  needed  four  new  teeth  in  the  upper  row. 

This  man  must  have  been  intended  for  a  psychologist ; 
there  was  nothing  interested  him  so  much  as  mental 
anatomy,  especially  the  anatomy  of  jnelaneholy.  If  there 
was  a  bit  of  unsavory  news  to  be  told,  he  was  sure  to 
make  his  way  to  that  person  who  would  have  the  greatest 
distaste  for  it.  Nothing  pleased  him  so  much  as  to  watch 
the  patient  while  he  administered  the  dose,  whether  he 
"  made  up  a  face  "  or  restrained  his  grimaces  and  tried 
to  look  as  if  it  tasted  well. 

It  was  quite  in  character  that  when  these  disastrous  tid- 
ings came,  he  should  go  to  the  warmest  Unionists  he 
knew,  rather  than  the  three  or  four  in  town  who  sympa- 
thized with  secession. 

"  I  guess  our  boys  remembered  some  of  them  peace 
sermons  you  used  to  preach,  all  of  a  sudden,  and  tliouglit 
they  'd  better  stop  fightin',"  he  went  on,  pleased  with  his 
wit. 


THE    PANIC.  185 

"  I  think  you  will  find,  in  the  long  run,  Mr.  Joyce,  that 
men  make  none  the  worse  soldiers  for  being  disciplined 
to  peace  and  order.  Hard  wood  doesn't  kindle  at  a  touch, 
but  it  makes  a  hot  fire." 

"  "Well — there's  two  thousand  of  'em  that  '11  never  do 
any  more  fightin',  any  way,"  he  remarked,  bringing 
down  his  chair  from  two  legs  to  four  with  a  decided  air. 

"  Wliat !  ISTot  two  thousand  killed  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Cameron. 

"  That's  the  word — at  the  veiy  lowest  calculation." 

"  Then  there  were  two  thousand  that  didn't  run  away, 
Mr.  Joyce,"  said  Theodora.  "  Our  army  mast  have  stood 
its  ground  till  that  much  slaughter  was  made." 

"Panics  have  taken  some  of  the  best  armies  in  the 
world,"  said  Mr.  Cameron. 

"  I  don't  know  'bout  that,"  replied  Mr.  Joyce,  setting 
on  the  floor  the  sole  of  his  boot  which  he  had  been  ex- 
amining, mounted  on  the  knee  of  liis  other  leg.  "  One 
thing  I  can  tell  ye — you  never  will  conquer  them  South- 
erners— never.     They  are  a  proud,'  resolute  race." 

"  We  all  come  of  one  race,  I  believe,"  answered  Mr. 
Cameron.  "  It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  it  is  devel- 
oped best  under  a  system  of  slave  labor  or  under  one 
hke  our  own. 

"  Well ;  we  shall  see  what  we  shall  see,"  and  with  this 
indisputable  statement,  the  neighbor  picked  up  his  hat 
and  departed. 

Later  in  the  morning,  Robert  went  to  take  counsel 
with  his  mother,  as  he  used  to  when  he  was  a  boy,  while 
she  was  at  work  in  the  pantry.  How  many  times  since, 
he  had  longed  to  get  back  to  that  very  spot  and  watch 
her  as  she  moulded  their  daily  bread,  and  tell  her  all  his 
pei-plexities  and  get  her  wisdom,  so  mingled  with  moth- 


186  THEODORA:    A   HOME   STORY. 

erlj  kindness.  Right  before  her,  as  she  stood  at  the 
tiour-board,  was  a  window  which  had  refreshed  her  soul 
with  beauty  year  by  year. 

Looking  between  the  horizontal  leafy  brandies  of  an 
oak,  where  squin*els  were  ninning  to  and  fro,  she  could 
see  wide  reaches  of  delicious  green — the  serried  ranks  of 
the  com  with  its  shining  blades  and  tossing  plumes — tlie 
billowy  shades  of  the  wheat-field — the  lines  of  flickering 
willows,  guarding  ancient  landmarks — here  and  there  a 
queenly  elm,  the  choicest  heirloom  of  some  farm — gleams 
of  sunny  water  from  the  Manatusuc,  on  its  way  to  join 
the  broader  river ;  farther  away  that  wreath  of  shrub- 
bery which  always  graces  the  banks  of  the  Connecticut 
marked,  while  it  hid,  the  coarse  of  the  stream.  Right 
across  meadow  and  river,  shot  a  railroad,  a  blemish  at 
first ;  but  now  that  Nature  had  adopted  it,  and  grassed  its 
banks  and  mossed  its  bridges,  and  thrown  a  few  black- 
berry vines  over  its  abutments,  an  added  beauty,  its  busi- 
ness-like directness  throwing  in  relief  the  soft  curves  into 
which  the  often  overflowing  river  had  washed  all  outlines 
about  it ;  even  the  locomotive  rushing  across  those  fields 
of  living  green,  with  its  steam-clouds  catching  in  the  tree- 
tops,  was  a  picturesque  embodiment  of  man's  noisy 
energy  contrasted  with  the  silent  might  of  God's  per- 
petual working.  Beyond  the  broad  meadows,  rose  an 
amphitheatre  of  hills ;  beyond  them  again,  distant  moun- 
tains ;  and  beyond  them,  the  deep  sky.  No  hour  of  the 
day  but  shed  its  own  charm  on  this  scene,  and  not  one 
was  lost  on  Mrs.  Cameron.  Her  love  of  beauty  would 
have  suffered  from  hunger  if  her  busy  life  had  lain  in  the 
dull  precincts  of  a  crowded  town. 

Robert  sat  down  on  the  meal-chest  beside  her,  absently 
watching  her  making  a  strawbeiry  shortcake. 


THE  PAJSnC.  187 

"  Mother,  tell  me  what  I  ought  to  do." 

She  glanced  into  his  face,  guessing  only  too  well  what 
he  had  in  mind. 

"  I  would  enlist  before  the  sun  goes  down,  if  it  wasn't 
for  Jenny,  and  I  don't  know  but  I  ought  to  anyway !" 

So  it  had  begun  to  come  !  This  was  the  very  thing 
which  had  made  her  heart  tremble  every  night  since  the 
great  call  to  arms  in  April. 

"  Don't  you  think  there  are  enough  that  can  go,  better 
than  you?''  she  asked. 

"  I  am  well  and  strong,  and  I  want  to  do  my  part  ;  I 
hate  shirking  ;  but  I  don't  know  what  Jenny  would  do  if 
anything  should  happen  to  me." 

His  mother  dared  not  speak.  She  had  done  her  best 
to  make  her  boys  patriots ;  she  had  taught  them, — 

"  That  a  country's  a  thing  men  should  die  for  at  need," 

but  she  was  a  timid,  tender  mother.  In  her  thoughts,  to 
enlist  was  to  be  killed  ;  already  she  could  see  her  Robert 
bleeding  on  the  battle-field.  Besides  this  great  trouble, 
she  found  room  for  a  little  inferior  pain.  Is  any  mother 
so  utterly  unselfish  as  to  abdicate  the  dearest  place  in  the 
heart  of  her  first-born  without  a  pang  ?  She  was  glad  to 
have  Robert  married ;  she  had  written  sweet,  cordial  let- 
ters to  his  wife,  but  this  was  the  first  time  they  had  met 
since  his  marriage,  and  it  was  not  yet  easy  to  feel  that  one 
she  had  never  seen  was  first  in  his  thoughts.  She  could 
not  know  that  his  mother  only  grew  more  wonderful  and 
precious  to  him  as  his  life  deepened. 

Robert  went  on : 

"  If  she  should  be  left  now,  she  would  have  nothing 
but  my  life  insurance.  I  have  put  everything  else  into 
the  farm  ;  one  more  payment  makes  that  ours  ;  if  I  fail 


188  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

then,  the  mortgage  is  foreclosed  and  I  lose  all.  You  see, 
if  I  go  right  along  and  am  prospered  as  I  have  been,  I 
could  finish  up  in  this  next  year ;  if  I  leave  it,  nothing 
will  be  done  of  any  account ;  it  is  hard  to  get  working- 
men  already." 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  go  now,"  said  the  mother, 
with  a  sense  of  relief.  "  One  year  makes  more  dilfer- 
ence  to  you  now  than  five  will  by  and  by." 

"  But  it  seems  mean  to  mind  one's  own  interest  at  such 
a  time,"  he  answered.  "  It  would  not  be  so  hard  to  go,  if 
it  was  different  with  Jenny's  father.''  He  picked  up  the 
little  "  jagger"  with  whiclf  his  mother  had  been  marking 
the  cake,  and  began  drawing  cogged  lines  all  over  the  bit 
of  dough  that  lay  on  the  corner  of  the  flour-board  next 
him,  perplexity  working  itself  out  at  his  fingei*s'  ends. 
"  You  see,  Mr.  Hague  never  liked  our  marriage  much. 
He  wanted  Jenny  to  many  a  rich  man.  Then  his  sym- 
pathies are  all  with  the  South.  I  never  could  have  my 
wife  any  way  dependent  on  him  again,  least  of  all  if  I  was 
killed  fighting  against  his  principles." 

"  Why  not  rest  on  the  decision  that  it  isn't  your  duty 
to  go  at  present  ?  If  the  war  lasts,  and  you  are  needed 
then,  you  could  leave  your  wife  well  provided  for  in 
another  year,  couldn't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  all  goes  well." 

He  sat  silent,  gazing  out  at  the  window,  but  not  as  if 
he  saw  anything  the  hither  side  of  the  mountains.  As 
his  mother  glanced  at  him,  she  saw  a  tender  pride  steal- 
ing into  the  expression  of  those  clear  blue  eyes  she  had 
loved  so  long.     She  caught  its  meaning  when  he  said : 

"  If  I  should  ever  have  a  boy  of  my  own,  I  should  n't 
want  him  to  think  I  wasn't  ready  to  fight  for  the 
flag." 


THE   PANIC.  189 

His  mother  turned  and  looked  at  him,  with  a  question 
full  in  her  eyes,  and  he  answered,  softly : 

"  Perhaps — about  New  Year's." 

In  an  instant  she  took  his  wife  into  her  inmost 
heart. 

"  Then  you  must  not  enlist,  Kobert.  It  would  be  cruel. 
Do  you  stay  by  that  little  wife  of  yours,  and  take  good 
care  of  her,  for  a  year  yet.  If  the  country  needs  you, 
after  that,  go,  and  God  bless  you,  dear  !  " 

Robert  smiled. 

"  You  are  quite  sure  ?  " 

"  Quite." 

"Well,  I  always  found  it  was  best  to  mind  you. 
There's  one  comfort  about  it — armies  must  have  rations, 
and  the  farms  are  just  as  necessary  as  the  arsenals." 

At  the  same  moment  a  long  talk  in  the  study  was  com- 
ing to  an  end.  Donald  had  been  urging  his  father  to  let 
him  leave  college  at  once  and  go  into  the  army.  Mr. 
Cameron  was  sunnning  up  the  argument  on  his  side  by 
saying : 

"  I  want  you  to  do  your  duty  towards  the  country,  my 
son,  but  the  soldiers  she  wants  are  older  men  than  you." 
Donald  opened  his  lips  to  protest  that  he  was  as  strong  as 
any  man  needed  to  be  ;  but  his  father  had  heard  that  be- 
fore, and  went  on :  "  You  are  well  and  strong,  and  I 
thank  God  for  it ;  but  no  young  man  at  your  age  has  the 
power  of  endurance  he  will  have  later,  and  endurance  is 
quite  as  necessary  as  force,  to  a  soldier.  If  the  Govern- 
ment can  put  do\^^l  the  rebellion  in  a  year,  such  volun- 
teers as  you  are  not  needed  ;  if  the  war  is  not  through  by 
that  time,  you  will  be  worth  much  more  as  a  soldier  then 
than  now." 

Donald  looked  unsatisfied  still. 


190  THEODORA  t    A   HOME   BTORY. 

"  I  sboiild  be  ashamed  all  ray  life  if  the  war  was 
finished  without  my  firing  one  shot  for  the  old  flag," 

"  Working  away  at  your  regular  college  duties  is  not  so 
brilliant  service  as  fighting,  to  be  sure,"  his  father  replied ; 
"  but  if  what  you  wish  is  to  be  the  most  useful  citizen 
you  can,  I  believe  that  is  the  thing  for  you  to  do.  If 
you  were  to  break  off  your  course  of  study  at  this  point, 
and  serve  in  the  army  till  the  war  is  done,  I  do  not  be- 
lieve you  would  ever  have  the  power  for  good  that  you 
will  if  you  go  on — finish  this  work  undertaken — and  then, 
if  occasion  demands,  volunteer." 

There  was  a  moment's  thoughtful  silence. 

"  I  would  not  wish  to  control  you  about  it,  my  son. 
Take  counsel  of  God,  and  do  what  you  think  right ;  but 
I  have  given  you  my  judgment.  There  is  no  question 
in  my  mind  that  it  would  be  unwise  for  you  to  enlist,  at 
present.'' 

He  sat  leaning  a  little  forward,  resting  his  hand  on  his 
knee,  looking  earnestly  into  his  son's  eyes  as  he  said 
it.  The  two  faces,  over  against  each  other,  were  striking 
in  their  Hkeness  and  their  unlikeness  one  to  the  other. 
The  younger  had  a  tapering  contour,  larger  eyes,  and  a 
curling  upper  lip  of  its  own,  but  the  complexion  and  the 
general  cast  of  features  were  the  same  in  both  ;  the  masses 
of  iron  grey  hair  were  not  less  soft  and  thick  than  those 
of  dark  brown ;  the  eyes  of  the  father  looked  blacker 
only  because  they  were  deeper  set  and  shaded  by  hea\ner 
brows  than  the  son's ;  the  one  face  was  full  of  solid 
strength,  the  other  mobile  with  imagination  and  feeling. 
Both  were  full  of  noble  expression  now. 

"  No  doubt  you  are  right,  father,"  said  Donald,  as  he 
rose  and  walked  to  the  door,  "  but  if  I  am  needed,  I  am 
ready ;  that's  all." 


THE   PANIC.  191 

After  one  week  together,  which  seemed  to  them,  after- 
wards, like  the  "  bright,  consummate  flower ''  of  their 
home  happiness,  the  family  ckcle  was  broken  by  Robert's 
departure. 

"  Robert  seems  to  be  making  a  strong,  useful  man," 
said  the  father  to  the  mother,  as  he  covered  the  coals  in 
the  sitting-room  stove,  the  night  after  he  had  gone.  "  I 
think  he  has  been  remarkably  successful,  too,  for  the 
time  he  has  been  West." 

"Mrs.  Perley  was  remarking  how  well  he  appears," 
said  the  mother,  who  was  so  conscious  of  being  proud  of 
him  that  she  was  a  little  shy  of  saying  all  she  thought, 
even  to  her  husband.  "  She  says  there  is  a  kind  of  un- 
pretending self-respect  along  with  that  frank,  fnendly 
way  of  his,  that  makes  every  one  else  respect  as  well  as 
like  him." 

"  That  comes,  in  part,  from  having  the  right  business 
and  the  right  wife — the  two  prime  requisites  for  a  man's 
success  in  life,  outside  of  his  own  soul." 

Mrs.  Cameron  was  too  wise  and  too  delicate  to  refer  to 
the  pain  the  son's  choice  of  business  had  cost  his  father ; 
but  she  inwardly  smiled,  and  laid  up  the  saying  in  her 
heart,  to  tell  Robert  whenever  she  should  see  him  again. 


XVI. 

DONALD     IN     THE     FOG.  , 

THE  two  brothers  had  been  constantly  together  dur- 
ing the  week ;  their  very  difference  of  tempera- 
ment seemed  to  make  them  more  delightful  to  each 
other ;  so  it  was  not  till  Kobert  was  gone  that  Theodora 
found  opportunity  for  one  of  her  old  talks  with  Donald. 
She  was  well  pleased,  the  next  morning,  when  they  were 
sent  off  together  on  a  "  butter  hunt "  in  the  "  Hardscrab- 
ble  neighborhood."  Hannibal,  tliough  past  his  youth, 
jjulled  up  the  hills  as  jDluckily  as  ever,  while  the  brother 
and  sister  talked  over  a  scoie  of  things  which  they  had 
been  saving  to  tell  each  other. 

"Would  you  go  back  to  Wheeling,  or  not?"  asked 
Theodora. 

"  La}'  the  case  before  me  in  your  most  lucid  style,  and  I 
will  favor  you  with  my  wisdom,"  answered  Donald,  snatch- 
ing a  twig  from  a  birch  they  were  passing,  and  biting  off 
the  bark  for  the  sake  of  old  times,  when  he  liked  it. 

"Pro,"  commenced  Theodora.  "I  want  the  money. 
Secondly,  1  like  the  Tori-ingttms,  and  I  enjoy  my  work. 
Thirdly,  they  want  me  to  come  back,  very  much  ;  and 
they  have  been  so  kind  to  me,  that  I  don't  like  to  refuse 
them. 

"  Con.     Mr.  and  Mrs.  Torrington   are  thoroughbred 

Southerners — he  from  old  Yirginia  and  she  from  South 

Carolina.     They  try  to  be  considerate  of  me,  and  I  of 

them ;  but  we  can't  speak  out,  on  either  side,  without 

(193) 


DONALD   IN   THE   FOa.  193 

coming  point  blank  against  each  other.  Tou  know  I 
never  was  remarkable  for  prudence  in  speaking  mj  mind ; 
and  in  a  thing  like  this,  that  I  feel  through  and  through 
me,  it  seems  sometimes  as  if  it  was  as  much  as  my  life 
was  worth  to  hold  in." 

"  Don't  go  back,  if  there's  any  danger  of  exploding — 
don't !  "  said  Donald,  with  an  air  of  alarm. 

"  I  go  up  to  uncle's,  when  I  am  near  that.  There  I 
can  blow  off  steam  to  my  heart's  content.  It  is  really 
amusing  to  see  Uncle  Graham's  division  of  mind  between 
his  old  friendship  for  Mr.  Tonington  and  his  disgust  at 
his  secession  principles.  I  shouldn't  dare  have  them 
meet  — uncle  is  too  uncompromising  and  outspoken, 
Mr,  Torrington  is  more  reserved,  but  just  as  intense  on 
his  side — just  as  sure  he  is  right." 

"  It's  a  mystery  to  me,"  said  Donald,  "  that  they  have 
not  put  you  out,  before  this,  for  a  pestilent  Abolitionist 
firebrand." 

"  Why,  you  have  no  idea  how  cool  and  seK-controUed 
I  have  grown.  I  am  a  wonder  to  myself.  Didn't  I  write 
you  of  a  little  talk  that  happened,  soon  after  I  went  there, 
which  called  out  my  anti-slavery  notions  ?  I  freed  my 
mind  then,  once  for  all,  and  I  resolved  I  never  would  re- 
fer to  it  again,  if  I  could  help  it,  while  I  was  in  the 
family.  Mrs.  Torrington  was  pretty  thoroughly  excited, 
as  well  as  I ;  but  we  both  held  on  to  our  temper,  and 
really  Kked  each  other  none  the  less  for  it,  perhaps." 

"  I  shouldn't  want  to  feel  that  I  was  muzzled." 

"  I  don't.  I  said,  plainly  and  honestly,  just  what  1 
thought.  Only,  when  your  principles  come  down  on 
good,  conscientious,  delightful  people  whom  you  are  talk- 
ing with,  you  can't  lay  them  down  with  quite  such  un- 
mitigated severity,  you  know." 
9 


194  theodoea:  a  home  stoey. 

"  General  principles  go  on  swimmingly  till  they  get 
mixed  up  with  particular  cases,"  said  Donald,  switching 
the  raspberry  bushes  by  the  roadside.  "  You  could  blaze 
away  with  unembarrassed  ardor  when  your  slave-holding 
sinners  were  a  thousand  miles  away ;  but  now  you  have 
them  at  short  range,  you  cool  off.  I  am  afi-aid  you  are 
getting  demoralized." 

"  No,  I  am  not ;  I  think  of  slavery  just  as  I  always 
did.  I  hate  it  more  than  ever,  now  I  see  it  is  the  wedge 
that  threatens  to  split  the  nation ;  but  I  do  see,  as  I 
didn't  use  to,  how  people  who  are  really  just  and  honor- 
able and  religious,  in  every  other  respect,  can  be  so  pos- 
sessed with  pro-slavery  prejudices  and  traditions  as  not 
to  see  that  it  is  cruel  or  unjust  or  unchristian ;  and  I 
think,  so  long  as  I  am  a  member  of  theii"  household,  it  is 
not  courtesy  to  keep  bringing  up  a  subject  which  we  can- 
not discuss  without  wounding  each  other." 

"  So  far,  you  have  made  a  gain,  I  believe.  The  fact 
is,  Theodora,  we  have  been  educated  in  such  positive 
opinions  of  right  and  wrong,  true  and  false,  that  we  are 
in  danger  of  seeing  only  one  side  of  things." 

"  I  believe  I  would  almost  rather  see  only  one  side," 
the  sister  exclaimed.  "  It  is  such  a  damper  of  your  en- 
thusiasm, or  your  righteous  indignation,  to  take  into  ac- 
count everything  that  might  be  said  on  the  other  side." 

"  There  you  are  !  That's  you,  all  over ! ''  said  Donald, 
looking  around  at  her,  with  a  short  laugh.  "  It  is  your 
dearest  luxury  to  put  the  whole  of  yourself  into  wliatever 
you  feel.  But,  don't  you  see,  you  will  have  to  get  into  some 
other  world  than  this  before  that  w-ill  apply  ?  There  is 
nobody  you  can  admire  without  some  discount — nobody 
you  can  have  the  satisfaction  of  hating  without  any  com- 
punction— no   case   that   circumstances   won't  alter — no 


DONALD   IN   THE   FOG.  195 

trutli  SO  certain  that  more  light  may  not  show  it  an  un- 
truth." 

Theodora's  face  clouded ;  but  her  brother,  not  caring 
to  follow  the  line  of  thought  any  farther,  forestalled  her 
reply  by  saying : 

"  To  return  to  the  question  :  to  go  or  not  to  go ;  I  say 
go,  if  you  can  be  happy  there ;  stay  if  you  can't.  The 
money  is  a  good  thing — you  have  made  pleasant  friends, 
they  like  your  singing,  and  your  teaching ;  Uncle  Gra- 
ham's is  a  second  home  to  you.  But  if  it  makes  you  un- 
comfortable to  live  with  those  you  differ  from,  don't  do 
it.  We  can  find  some  other  place  for  you,  and  if  you 
don't  get  quite  so  good  pay,  you  can  take  it  out  in  hm'rah- 
ing  for  the  stars  and  stripes." 

Theodora  laughed  and  said,  "  That  reminds  me ;  a  day 
or  two  after  we  heard  of  the  '  Star  of  the  West '  being 
fired  on,  Mrs.  Torrington  and  I  were  going  along  the 
street,  and  came  to  a  place  where  some  Unionist  was  run- 
ning up  a  new  flag  in  front  of  his  house.  It  seems  the 
halyards  had  broken,  and  he  had  left  the  flag  trailing 
in  a  pile  across  the  side-walk,  while  he  went  for  a  new 
cord.  I  wouldn't  step  on  it,  so  I  caught  it  up  in  my 
arms,  and  before  I  knew  it,  I'd  kissed  it — " 

"  Theatrical !" 

"  No,  it  wasn't  !"  she  protested,  blushing ;  "  I  didn't 
'  go  to ' — I  took  myself  by  surprise  ;  nobody  saw  me  bat 
Mrs.  Torrington.  I  was  so  angry  and  grieved  that  Ameri- 
cans could  fire  on  the  American  flag,  that  I  couldn't  help 
giving  the  glorious  old  thing  a  hug  and  a  kiss  when  I 
got  it  in  my  anns." 

"  It  is  to  be  hoped  the  sidewalk  was  reasonably  clean." 

"  Ton  bad  boy  !"  giving  his  shoulder  a  httle  push.  "  I 
wish  I  hadn't  told  you  a  thing  about  it ;  but  what  made 


196  TIIEODOKA  :    A   HOME    8T0EY. 

me  was,  that  Mrs.  Tomngton  and  I  had  a  grand  fight 
after  it ;  we  found  Pelhain  Bell  at  the  house  when  we 
came  home,  and  she  told  him  about  it,  making  fun  of  me. 
I  defended  myself,  jokingly,  at  first,  but  presently  I 
made  some  thrust  at  South  Carolina  for  insulting  the 
flag ;  that  roused  her,  and  then  we  had  it,  hot  and  heavy, 
on  both  sides.  Bell  sat  by,  and  threw  in  a  torpedo  when- 
ever we  showed  any  signs  of  peace.  I  scolded  him  for 
it  afterwards,  but  he  said  we  were  like  the  North  and 
South,  incarnate,  and  he  was  anxious  to  see  which  would 
come  out  ahead  so  as  to  know  on  which  side  to  enlist. 
But  it  was  awful.  She  feels  for  the  honor  of  South 
Carolina  to  the  very  marrow  of  her  bones,  just  as  I  feel 
for  The  Country.  I  resolved  I  would  not  be  provoked 
into  another  such  dispute  with  her,  come  what  would,  for 
I  love  her,  and  don't  want  to  lose  her." 

"  What  kind  of  a  chap  is  this  Bell  ?  Seems  to  me,  you 
see  a  good  deal  of  him." 

"  I  do  ;  he  is  veiy  intimate  at  the  Torringtons — always 
has  been." 

"No  more  so  since  you  went  there,  I  suppose  ?"  re- 
marked Donald,  looking  her  quizzically  in  the  face. 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  I  wasn't  there  before.  He  doesn't 
seem  to  have  any  particular  aversion  to  finding  me  there," 
she  answered,  laughing. 

"Well,  what  is  he?" 

"  He  is  a  splendid-looking  man ;  so  tall,  tnat  it  seems 
like  an  affront  to  any  ordinary  man  for  him  to  stand  be- 
side him — and  still  so  finely  proportioned,  that  you  don't 
think  of  his  being  so  remarkably  tall,  if  you  just  see  hun 
by  hunself." 

"  What  else  ?" 

"  He  knows  how  to  be  the  politest  man  I  ever  saw !" 


DONALD    m    THE    FOG.  197 

"'Knows  how  to  he  V 

"  Yes,  lie  is  too  lazy  to  practice  it  all  the  time.  But 
you  should  see  hiui  on  his  great  white  horse  !  He  is  an 
elegant  rider.  Oh,  what  rides  we  have  had  out  to  uncle's  ! 
But  that's  all  over.  He  has  gone  into  the  Union  army  ; 
hut,  as  I  have  told  him,  he  isn't  fighting  for  the  Govern- 
ment, he  is  lighting  for  his  horse.  I  really  don't  think 
he  would  have  turned  his  hand,  which  side  should  beat, 
till  a  few  weeks  ago,  he  happened  to  be  down  in  Ka- 
nawha County,  and  one  of  G-en.  Wise's  officers  set  his 
eyes  on  Di  Yenion,  and  straightway  she  was  seized  as 
belonging  to  a  Union  man.  Bell  came  home  in  a  tower- 
ing passion,  and  the  very  next  day  took  a  lieutenant's 
commission  in  the  Union  army.  Gen.  Blank  took  him 
for  an  aide  soon  after." 

"  Isn't  there  anything  to  him  except  dimensions  and  a 
horse  V^ 

"  Yes ;  he  is  generous  to  a  fault ;  loves  and  hates  with- 
out any  qualifications.  Mr.  Torrington  says,  when  he 
chooses  to  work,  no  young  man  can  compete  with  him ; 
but  he  is  careless  unless  a  case  happens  to  mterest  him. 
He  &tudied  with  Mr.  Torrington,  and  was  admitted  to  the 
bar  two  years  ago.  Uncle  thinks  well  of  him  because  he 
comes  of  good  blood,  the  Pelhams  and  the  Bells.  His 
father's  family  are  strong  in  the  region.  They  all  call 
him  '  Bell,'  even  his  own  sisters,  as  if  it  w^ere  his  given 
name.'' 

One  remark  of  Donald's,  in  this  talk,  was  the  clue  to 
much  of  his  recent  thinking,  as  his  sister  found  in  many 
other  conversations  that  Summer.  "  ]^o  truth  so  certain 
but  that  more  light  may  show  it  an  untruth." 

When  religious  unbehef  enters  a  mind  through  the 
lusts  of  the  flesh,  it  is  welcome,  as  the  finding  a  flaw  in 


198  TllEODOKA  :    A    HOME    STOEY. 

his  master's  title  would  be  to  a  slave ;  habits  rebound 
from  galling  restraint ;  the  man  makes  haste  to  use  his 
new  license,  and  ever  after  he  will  show  a  bitterness  of 
scoffing  hatred  towards  the  faith  from  which  he  has 
broken.  But  when  a  serious  doubt  of  Christianity  in- 
vades a  soul  which  has  been  wont  to  yield  Jesus  Chiist 
the  loyalt}'  of  love,  it  brings  dismay  and  desolation ;  it 
makes  the  richest  treasure  of  life,  a  cheat ;  the  dearest  of 
all  friends,  a  phantom.  A  strong  Chiistian  character 
cannot  be  quickly  undermined ;  the  heart  will  cherish 
loyalty  to  its  King  long  after  the  mind  begins  to  debate 
his  right  to  reigTi,  but  it  will  ache  with  distrust. 

From  this  wretched  experience,  Donald  had  been  suf- 
fering. He  had  not  chafed  under  the  checks  of  a  Puri- 
tan training — not  even  in  college ;  the  purity  of  his  own 
tastes  had  abetted  it.  A  certain  relinement  of  moral 
tone,  together  with  his  decided  intellectual  bent,  sepa- 
rated him,  without  an  effort,  from  the  "  fast  men  "  of  his 
class.  It  was  no  desu'e  for  an  easier  law  of  conscience 
which  whispered  to  him  new  doubts  of  his  ancestral 
faith ;  but  at  the  same  time  that  he  lost,  with  his  home- 
life,  much  that  made  the  Gospel  a  living  reality ;  a  gi'eat 
range  of  new  reading  was  opened  to  him;  arguments 
against  Christianity  which  he  had  met  in  works  where 
they  were  cited  to  be  controverted,  he  now  found  for  the 
first  time,  not  with  conviction,  in  the  very  words  of  the 
men  who  first  urged  them.  He  was  often  in  debate  with 
friends  who  held  opposite  religious  opinions  not  less 
stoutly  than  he  his.  The  consciousness  that  his  mind, 
heart,  and  life  had  been  struck  through  with  the  definite 
theology  and  code  of  duty,  which  his  parents  had  taught 
him,  made  him  jealous  of  himself,  lest  he  should  be  in- 
capable of  an  unbiased  search  for  truth. 


DONALD   m   THE   FOG.  199 

The  questions  whicli  challenged  him  struck  at  the  very 
roots  of  his  belief.  He  felt  that  he  must  hold  in  abey- 
ance that  love  for  Christ  which  he  had  sacredly  fostered, 
while  he  went  back  to  the  beginning  to  investigate  the 
proof  that  He  was  indeed  a  Saviour.  He  forgot  that,  in 
spiritual  things,  the  reason  can  no  more  spare  the  heart 
than  the  chemist  can  spare  heat— that  the  intuitions  we 
snatch  when  the  soul  is  intensely  awake,  and  truth  is 
flashed  upon  it  through  the  electric  air  of  feeling,  are  not 
less  to  be  respected  than  the  conclusions  we  labor  for, 
piecing  together  proofs  and  weighing  probabilities,  and 
so  he  ruled  out  of  evidence  much  which  might  have 
shed  light  on  his  pei-plexities.  Severed  thus  from  his 
heavenly  Guide,  he  wandered  into  regions  that  were  very 
dark  and  chill — the  foundations  seemed  to  have  given  way 
beneath  him,  and  life  had  lost  its  meaning.  Yet  no  strange 
thing  had  happened  unto  him.  He  was  but  one  of  thou- 
sands strugghng  through  a  passage  of  life,  full  of  peril 
and  of  pain,  which  may  prove  the  death-agony  of  the  soul 
or  the  birth-pang  to  a  higher  life.  Well,  it  is  not  for  every 
one  who,  like  young  Cameron,  brings  to  that  trial  a  char- 
acter stanch  with  Christian  principle,  a  heart  full  of  Chris- 
tian sympathies,  a  memory  which  cannot  turn  to  the 
dearest  scenes  of  childhood  without  seeing  the  benign 
presence  of  the  Redeemer  in  the  midst  of  the  beloved 
household. 

"  Like  a  sick  child  that  knoweth  not 
His  mother  while  she  blesses," 

he  is  held  from  harm  by  those  very  amis  of  faith  he  is 
striving  to  fling  from  him. 

Once  or  twice  after  coming  home,  Donald  fell  into  dis- 
cussion with  his  father  on  some  of  the  questions  which  were 


200  THEODOEA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

troubling  him,  but  with  so  little  satisfaction  on  either 
side  that  they  mutually  avoided  it  afterwards.  Mr, 
Cameron  was  accounted  an  uncommonly  clear,  candid, 
logical  reasoner ;  but  to  find  this  son  of  his  attacking  doc- 
trines which  he  had  carefully  expounded  to  him  in  child- 
hood, not  only  grieved — it  displeased  him.  It  seemed  to 
him  the  boy  must  be  perverse  in  refusing  to  be  convinced 
by  what  was,  to  him,  uTesistible  proof.  He  felt  it  too 
deeply  and  painfully  to  argue  about  it.  He  recommended 
to  his  son  certain  controversial  works  in  his  librai-y,  and 
he  often  laid  the  case  before  God  with  strong  supplication. 
Whence  this  new  scepticism  had  sprung,  and  whither  it 
might  lead,  were  questions  that  filled  him  with  solicitude ; 
he  feared  it  mio;ht  have  come  from  some  letting;  down  of 
morality  which  was  hidden  from  him.  Donald  suspected 
this  suspicion,  and  was  hurt  by  it ;  but  with  that  strange 
pride  we. have  in  being  unjustly  judged,  took  not  the 
slightest  pains  to  relieve  the  unfounded  fear.  He,  on  his 
part,  tliought  his  father  unwilling  to  allow  to  unbehevers 
their  due,  either  as  to  sincerity  or  force  of  argi^ent.  So 
this  new  undertone  of  dissonance  between  them  marred 
somewhat  the  sweetness  of  the  Simimer  days. 

"With  his  mother,  Donald  instinctively  avoided  any 
allusion  to  his  religious  doubts.  He  did  not  wish  to 
shock  her,  nor  to  be  harrassed  in  his  inquiries  by  her 
anxiety.  One  day,  as  the  family  were  in  a  lively  debate 
on  some  subject — ^perhaps  it  was  "  "Woman's  Sphere  " — 
Miriam  quoted  on  her  side  a  text  from  one  of  the 
Epistles. 

"  That  is  Paul's  opinion,"  remarked  Donald,  indiffer- 
ently. 

"And  isn't  it  the  Word  of  God  ? "  asked  his  mother, 
looking  up  at  him  earnestly. 


DONALD   IN   THE   FOG.  201 

He  met  her  eyes  for  a  moment,  answered  gently, 
*'  Perhaps,"  and  phmged  into  the  discussion  again,  so  as 
to  shun  any  further  talk  about  it.  Later  in  the  day, 
however,  when  she  met  him  alone,  she  laid  her  hands  on 
his  shoulders  and  looked  up  into  his  face,  saying : 

"  You  don't  doubt  the  Bible,  my  child  ? " 

"Tou  needn't  worry  about  me,  mother,"  was  his 
answer. 

She  was  unsatisfied,  and  waited  for  him  to  say  more  ; 
but  he  did  not.  She  stroked  his  cheek,  and  said, 
solemnly : 

"  I  would  rather  see  my  son  die  than  become  an  in- 
fidel." 

Donald  had  not  thought  of  that  word  in  connection 
with  his  scepticism  ;  he  was  melted  to  hear  himself 
spoken  of  so  mournfully,  and  without  returning  her 
caressing  touch,  he  turned  away,  saying,  with  some  im- 
patience : 

"  Why,  mother,  one  would  think  I  was  a  young  Yol- 
taire !     You  needn't  be  alarmed  about  me." 

Youth  is  often  cruel  to  the  tenderness  that  yearns  over 
it,  when  it  does  not  mean  to  be.  He  felt  her  sad  eyes 
following  him  as  he  went  out,  and  he  felt  them  after- 
wards wherever  he  wandered  in  that  weary  quest  for 
truth. 

It  was  with  Theodora  that  he  talked  most  freely.  It 
was  natural  to  shaj-e  with  her  whatever  was  in  his  thoughts, 
and  then  he  felt  that  her  faith  in  him  was  too  strong  to 
be  shaken  ;  she  would  expect  nothing  but  the  best  of  and 
for  him.  In  the  many  talks  they  had,  in  their  long 
morning  drives,  or  in  the  hushed  Sunday  afternoons,  sit- 
ting in  his  chamber  window,  looking  out  towards  the 
mountains,  she  often  reassured  his  reliance  on  the  Bible 
9* 


202  THEODORA:    A   HOME   STORY. 

as  a  revelation,  and  on  Christ  as  a  Saviour.  Sometimes 
it  was  by  a  trenchant  argument — oftener,  bj  her  own 
ardent  faith.  He  had  no  fear  of  harming  her,  she  seemed 
so  sure.  It  would  have  pained  him  if  he  had  foreseen 
how  some  of  the  doubts  he  first  suggested  to  her  would 
urge  their  way  into  her  mind,  and  lurk  there  to  start  up 
and  trouble  her  when  she  was  far  from  him.  Still  she 
was  in  a  better  condition  to  combat  them  than  he.  She 
was  keeping  closer  to  the  "  Great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep," 
and  she  was  mingling  more  freely  with  real  life — the  best 
commentary  on  the  Bible.  On  the  whole,  it  was  a  good, 
rather  than  an  evil  to  her,  that  she  was  driven  to  search 
the  foundations  of  her  faith  as  never  before.  She  did  it 
with  constant  prayer  to  the  Father  of  her  spirit — the  God 
of  all  truth — and  it  ended  in  a  more  intelligent  and  inde- 
pendent belief  for  herself,  along  with  a  broader  and 
gentler  liberality  towards  the  diifering  faith  of  others. 

Every  afternoon,  the  family  were  sure  to  be  together 
in  the  sitting-room,  when  the  messenger  came  back  from 
the  post-office.  That  was  the  Summer  that  the  city  daily 
newspapers  began  to  find  their  way  to  every  little  village 
of  the  interior.  The  coming  of  the  mail  was  the  great 
event  of  the  day  to  everybod}- — from  the  row  of  loafing 
sovereigns  perched  along  the  steps  of  the  post-office, 
squirting  tobacco-juice  and  political  wisdom  into  the  street, 
to  the  housewife  in  the  loneliest  farm-house  on  the  hills. 

The  good-natured,  well-fed  North,  which  had  started 
up,  amazed,  like  a  sleepy  giant,  at  the  first  attack,  and 
struck  a  few  blundering  blows,  thoroughly  roused  by 
finding  himself  beaten,  was  kindling  in  spirit,  hardening 
his  sinews,  and  tightening  his  harness  for  effectual  war. 
The  people,  taking  it  for  granted  that  "  great  times  create 
great  men,"  were  on  the  lookout  for  their  hero.    The  day 


DONALD   m   THE   FOG.  203 

after  tlie  defeat  of  Biill  Run,  tliey  began  a  long  and  costly- 
series  of  experiments  in  the  hope  of  finding  him,  inflating 
generals  to  gods,  only  to  see  them  coUapse  to  men  of 
ordinary  size.  They  had  it  to  learn,  and  teach  to  the 
world,  that  human  nature  is  equal  to  its  own  emergencies 
— that  mere  honesty,  sense,  and  will  can  lead  a  nation  of 
freemen  safely  through  a  mighty  crisis.  Doubtless  that 
ideal  genius,  for  whom  they  vainly  watched,  might  have 
saved  them  time,  and  blood,  and  money ;  but,  in  the 
meanwhile,  they  patiently  taxed  themselves  the  needed 
milhons,  offered  their  blood  without  stint,  and  bided 
their  time. 

By  the  time  the  woodbine  over  the  porch  was  ciim- 
soned,  only  two  of  the  children  were  going  in  and  out  at 
the  parsonage  door.  Faith  and  Jessie  were  still  at  home, 
both  in  school.  Faith  was  pursuing  that  desultory  but 
vigorous  kind  of  education  which  is  to  be  had  at  our  old- 
fashioned  academies  in  the  "  fresh- water  towns  ''  of  New 
England,  where  Latin  and  mathematics  are  the  main 
staples,  Greek  and  natural  sciences  the  side  dishes,  and  a 
little  French,  "  after  the  scale  of  Stratford  atte  Bowe," 
all  the  dessert.  Perhaps  for  her  it  was,  after  all,  the 
best  system.  In  small  classes,  without  any  definite  course 
of  study,  her  stubborn  energy  was  free  to  dig  away  at  a 
difliculty  for  days  without  being  forestalled  by  ex-plana- 
tions.  Her  scholarship  lacked  breadtli,  proportion,  and 
grace,  but  it  had  a  depth,  independence,  and  truthfulness 
that  accorded  well  with  her  own  character.  A  country 
academy  is  generally  taught  by  some  young  man  just 
through  college,  earning  enough  to  go  through  a  profes- 
sional school,  and  its  worth  is  in  exact  ratio  to  his.  For- 
tunately for  Faith,  her  yomig  teacher  had  a  mind  well 
able  to  guide  and  quicken  hers. 


204  THEODOEA  !    A   HOME   STORY. 

As  for  Jessie,  she  was  too  lazy  to  be  a  scliolar.  She 
loved  to  read  and  to  di-eam  much  better  than  to  work. 
Many  au  evening,  as  the  two  sisters  sat  at  the  same  table, 
while  Faith  was  hunting  down  a  problem  in  Trigonometry, 
or  following  up  the  tangled  clue  of  a  sentence  in  Livy, 
Jessie  sat  with  her  books  before  her,  but  her  head  resting 
on  the  hand  bmied  in  her  cm-Is,  and  her  di*eamy  eyes 
fixed  on  the  shaded  light,  while  her  mind  floated  down 
the  stream  of  some  romantic  reverie.  As  the  mother,  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  table,  with  her  book  and  basket 
of  mending,  looked  at  the  two,  she  often  wished  she 
could  equalize  the  amount  of  will  between  them — Jessie 
needed  more,  and  Faith  would  go  thi'ough  the  world  more 
comfortably  with  less. 

Miriam,  meanwhile,  was  living  a  happy,  satisfying 
life  at  Downington;  teaching,  and  studying  that  she 
might  teach  well,  kept  up  a  steady,  intellectual  growth, 
and  to  this  she  was  adding  more  of  cultm'e  than  she  was 
conscious  of,  from  her  reading,  from  the  society  of  culti- 
vated people.  Care  for  her  pupils  kept  her  life  earnest, 
and  her  heart  humbly  prayerful.  So  her  soul  had  no 
meagre  income ;  as  for  its  outgo — if  "  character  is  the 
only  real  thing  in  this  world,''  and  life  is  worth  living  in 
proportion  as  it  tells  upon  character,  Mii-iam  Cameron's 
life  was  rich  in  value.  She  was  a  power  in  many  souls 
just  at  the  time  when  boys  and  girls  were  crystalizing 
into  men  and  women.  She  was  yomig  enough  to  be  of 
them,  old  enough  to  be  beyond  them,  and  their  admiring 
love  for  her  went  far  to  form  their  ideals,  their  purposes 
in  life,  and  to  win  them  to  Him  she  called  Master  and 
Lord.  School  seemed  to  come  nearer  to  the  general  life, 
now  that  the  countiy  was  in  danger.  Fathei-s,  brothers, 
lovers  in  the  army,  gave  the  daily  news  intense  interest, 


DONALD    IN    THE   FOG.  205 

and  Miriam  felt  it  one  of  her  pleasantest  duties  to  en- 
lighten and  guide  tlie  iiery  patriotism  of  the  young  creat- 
lu'es  around  her.  Comfort-bags  put  worsted  work  to 
shame,  and  the  girls  were  never  so  happy  as  in  filling  a 
hospital  box  with  the  work  of  their  hands,  unless  it  was 
in  reading  the  rudely-written,  ill-spelled  but  gallant  and 
grateful  letters  that  came  in  return. 

Donald,  like  most  college  boys  of  the  time,  was  work- 
ing off  his  surplus  zeal  in  military  drill.  The  manual  of 
arms  was  studied  quite  as  zealously  as  any  text-book  of 
the  course,  and  impatient  spirits  quieted  themselves  with 
the  thought  that  they  were  making  ready  to  be  heroes. 


XVII. 

TOWN-MEETING,    AND   WHAT   CAME   OF   IT. 

SIE  PHILIP  SIDNEY,  in  his  "Arcadia,"  repre- 
sents two  knightly  heroes  who  have  been  through 
danger  and  exploits  in  loving  fellowship,  having  been 
separated  by  a  great  shipwreck,  meeting  in  single  combat, 
unknown  to  each  other  in  their  strange  armor,  as  the 
champions  of  opposing  armies. 

"  And  so  they  began  a  fight  which  was  so  much  inferior 
to  the  battle  in  noise  and  number  as  it  was  surpassing  it  in 
bravery,  and,  as  it  were,  delightful  terribleness.  Their 
courage  was  guided  with  skill,  and  their  skill  was  armed 
with  courage,  neither  did  their  hardness  darken  their  wit, 
nor  their  wit  cool  their  hardness  ;  both  valiant,  as  men 
despismg  death,  both  confident  as  men  unwonted  to  be 
overcome — theii*  feet  steady,  their  hands  dihgent,  their 
eyes  watchful  and  their  hearts  resolute." 

So  did  the  two  great  brother  armies  of  the  Republic 
wrestle  with  each  other  through  the  early  Summer  of 
1862.  Trembling  and  hoping,  the  nation  watched  to  see 
one  or  the  other  go  down ;  but  fierce  assault  and  stub- 
bom  repulse  seemed  to  bring  the  end  no  nearer.  They 
fell  apart,  panting  and  bleeding,  after  an  awfully  mem- 
orable week,  in  which  they  fought  six  battles,  making 
every  night  a  forced  march  more  dreadful  than  a  battle. 
Each  had  conquered,  each  had  been  conquered,  and  neither 
was  vanquished.  All  the  ground  they  had  trampled  over, 
fi'om  the  Chickahominy  to  the  James,  was  crying  with 
(206) 


TOWN-MEETING,    AND   WHAT   CAME   OF   IT.  207 

brothers'  blood,  cand  Malvern  Hill,  where  the  Confederate 
armj  had  been  finally  repulsed,  was  piled  with  ghastly 
dead.  The  same  papers  which  carried  over  the  North 
the  bulletins  of  that  hard-won  victory,  carried  also  the 
call  for  three  hundred  thousand  men.  State  Governors 
echoed  the  summons,  and  in  a  few  days,  like  villages  and 
cities  all  over  the  North,  Rockbridge  had  called  a  meeting 
of  citizens  to  consider  and  act  upon  it. 

Colonel  Welch  was  chosen  chairman,  not  because  he 
was  an  ardent  Unionist,  but  because  his  townsmen  wished 
to  make  him  one.  His  well-wadded  front  and  prancing 
charger  had  never  confronted  anything  more  terrific  than 
the  brass  band  of  the  muster-field,  but  he  wore  his  title 
with  an  air  of  imposing  consequence. 

He  rose,  planted  one  foot  forward,  thrust  his  thumbs 
into  the  arm-holes  of  his  waistcoat,  spread  his  fat  fingers 
over  the  broad  expanse,  and  opened  the  meeting  by  re- 
minding his  fellow-citizens  that  they  were  called  to  de- 
liberate upon  the  President's  proclamation,  and  determine 
whether  it  was  expedient  to  take  any  measures  in  re- 
sponse to  it. 

While  the  chainnan  was  slowly  re-seating  liimself,  Mr. 
Hoyt,  a  wide-awake  young  merchant,  sprang  to  his  feet, 
and  set  the  tune  in  a  different  key,  by  saying,  that  there 
was  no  question  as  to  whether  Yermont  was  ready  to  fur- 
nish her  quota  of  the  three  hundred  thousand,  or  whether 
Eockbridge  was  ready  to  send  her  share  of  Yermont's 
quota.  The  only  things  to  be  decided  were  :  who  Avere 
the  men  ? — what  was  the  town  willing  to  do  for  them  ? 

As  the  clapping  which  approved  his  speech  subsided, 
Mr.  Blunt,  the  blacksmith,  rose  on  the  right  of  the  plat- 
form, and  turned  towards  the  audience.  He  was  a  broad- 
shouldered,   swarthy   man,  with  a  bristling  palisade  of 


208  THEODOEA  I    A    HOME    STOET. 

iron-grey  liair  over  liis  square  forehead  and  shaggy  eye- 
brows. He  had  been  reading  a  newspaper  up  to  the  last 
moment.  He  looked  over  his  spectacles,  and  fixed  the 
attention  of  the  crowd  by  the  silent  gaze  of  his  piercing 
eyes  before  he  began  to  speak. 

"  Vermont  is  ready  to  do  her  part,  and  Rockbridge  is 
ready  to  do  her  part,"  he  said.  "  Our  boys  are  willing  to 
go,  and  we  are  willing  to  back  them  up.  We  have  got 
good  American  blood  here,  and  hard-earned  dollars  too, 
that  we  are  willing  to  give  for  the  country ;  but,  feller 
citizens,  we  ha'u't  got  any  to  waste.  We  can  give  up  our 
children,  if  it's  necessary  to  save  the  nation  ;  but  we  a'n't 
willing  to  see  'em  pass  through  the  fire  to  Moloch ! " 

Mr.  Blunt's  ^^ice  took  on  a  tone  of  fierce  grief,  and  a 
hush  came  over  the  town-meeting.  Every  one  thought 
of  his  two  sons.  One,  shot  in  that  wonderful  but  fruit- 
less feat  of  valor  at  Lee's  Mills,  where  Green  Mountain 
boys  charged  through  water  breast-high,  under  a  hail- 
storm of  bullets,  and  carried  the  enemy's  works,  to  hold 
them  an  horn' ;  the  other — a  hardy  boy,  never  sick  in  his 
life  before — languishing  with  malarial  fever  at  White 
House. 

"  I've  studied  the  map,"  he  went  on,  "  and  I've  studied 
the  newspapers,  and  I  can't  make  it  out  no  other  way 
but  what  there's  been  an  awful  blunder.  Our  men  have 
fought  like  Kons,  and  worked  like  beavers.  Let  me  read 
to  ye  what  '  Fighting  Joe '  says  about  'em  in  his  report 
of  this  last  battle.''  He  adjusted  his  spectacles,  tipped 
his  newspaper  towards  the  light,  and  read  laboriously,  but 
proudly : 

"  '  The  brave  oflicers  and  men  whose  honor  and  welfare 
were  confided  to  my  care,  under  all  their  toils,  hardships, 
and  privations,  have  evinced  a  cheerfulness,  obedience, 


TOWlSr-MEETING,    AND   WHAT   CAME   OF   IT.  209 

fortitude,  and  heroism  which  will  never  fail  to  command 
the  gratitude,  reverence,  and  admiration  of  their  chief.' 

"Yes,  and  what  has  it  all  amounted  to?" — peering 
ominously  over  his  spectacles.  "  What  have  we  to  show 
for  the  hund'ed  thousand  men  we  have  lost  in  this  cam- 
paign ?  Jest  changin'  base  from  the  river  to  the  swamp, 
and  the  swamp  to  the  river — the  enemy  strengthenin'  his 
fortifications  all  the  while.  They  git  within  four  miles 
of  Richmond,  and  they  are  marched  off  again.  Here — 
last  Tuesday,  they  won  a  great  victory  at  Malvern  Hill ; 
and  what  do  they  do  after  it  ?  Retreat !  Retreat,  with 
some  of  tlie  best  generals  in  the  service  protesting  against 
it.  Their  commander  waits  till  it  rains,  then  waits  till  it 
dries ;  and  he  wiU  wait  till  our  brave  boj^s  are  all  killed 
with  these  hungry  marches  and  deadly  swamps  and  use- 
less battles,  without  takin'  Richmond.  I  say,  the  country 
ought  to  demand  a  change  in  the  Lieutenant-General  be- 
fore it  gives  the  three  hundred  thousand  recruits.  I  tell 
ye,  friends,  it's  one  thing  to  give  your  children's  blood  to 
save  the  nation,  and  another  thing  to  see  it  spilt  for 
nothin'.  This  kind  of  procrastinatin'  caution  is  the  worst 
kind  of  rashness." 

The  blacksmith  spoke  with  intense  conviction,  and  his 
words  struck  home  to  a  secret  misgiving  in  the  minds  of 
his  hearers.  But  he  had  hardly  taken  his  seat  when  a 
"  Mr.  Chairman  "  was  heard  from  the  back  part  of  the 
hall.  Every  one  looked  around,  and  saw  a  young  man, 
under  medium  size,  in  the  smoke-blue  uniform.  His 
thin  face  was  thoroughly  tanned,  and  he  leaned  on  a 
crutch  as  he  spoke.  People  whispered  to  each  other  that 
it  was  Jones,  the  cai-penter,  at  home  on  furlough. 

"  Mr.  Chairman,"  he  said,  *'  I'm  not  used  to  making 
speeches ;  but  there's  not  a  soldier  in  the  Army  of  the 


210  Theodora:  a  home  story. 

Potomac  that  could  sit  silent  and  hear  such  flings  at  our 
General.  We  know  him,  sir,  and  we  believe  in  him,  and 
we  are  readj  to  follow  him  till  we  drop  in  our  tracks.  It 
is  easy  enough  to  stay  here  and  cry  '  On  to  Richmond  ! ' 
hut  I  can  tell  you  it  is  another  thing  to  do  it.  Our  Gen- 
eral is  too  good  a  friend  to  his  soldiers  to  throw  away 
their  lives,  undertaking  impossibilities.  When  the  right 
time  comes,  you  will  see  him  carry  everything  before 
him.  Let  him  have  all  the  men  he  needs.  It's  not  a 
pleasant  feeling,  I  can  tell  you,  to  go  into  battle  and 
know  you  haven't  a  good  wall  of  reserves  behind  you. 

"  One  thing  you  may  be  sure  of,  Mr.  Chairman :  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  won't  thank  the  country  to  stand 
haggling  about  degrading  the  commander  they  near 
about  worship,  instead  of  sending  them  reinforcements." 

The  young  soldier  sat  down,  trembling  as  he  never 
trembled  before  the  enemy's  batteries ;  and  his  short 
speech,  delivered  with  the  homely  force  of  a  man  who 
speaks  because  he  cannot  keep  silence,  told  upon  his  au- 
dience. Still,  there  was  a  painful  suspicion,  the  growth 
of  weeks,  that  the  General  in  command  was  unworthy  of 
the  enthusiastic  faith  of  his  army. 

'Squire  Hughes,  who  spoke  next,  tried  to  relieve  this 
distrust  by  reminding  his  townsmen  that  the  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  army  and  navy  was  the  President,  who 
was  known  to  be  continually  urging  them  forward.  He 
loved  the  country  as  weU  as  any  of  them,  and  was  in  a 
better  position  to  judge  what  was  best.  Could  they  not 
trust  him  ? 

His  cheerful,  confident  words,  spoken  with  the  clear 
utterance  of  a  cultivated  man,  had  an  evident  effect. 
The  people  of  Rockbridge,  like  millions  of  their  loyal 
countrymen,  were  learning  to  rely  more  and  more  on 


TOWN-MEETING,    AND    WHAT   CAME   OF   IT.  211 

that  great,  true  lieart  at  the  centre  of  their  government. 
The  President  would  see  what  was  right ;  the  President 
would  do  what  was  best. 

Mr.  Hughes  had  hardly  seated  himself  before  'Squire 
Fenton,  the  other  lawyer  of  the  village,  was  bowing  to  the 
chairman.  He  was  as  good  a  specimen  of  the  floiid 
pompous,  as  Col.  Welch  of  the  stately  pompous.  The 
hair  seemed  to  have  settled  from  the  top  of  his  head  to 
the  lower  part  of  his  face,  where  it  made  quite  a  fine  show. 
The  shining  dome  above  was  diversified  by  a  few  lines 
of  hair  coaxed  up  from  the  side  locks,  and  trained  across 
as  a  concession  to  the  popular  prejudice  in  favor  of  hair 
on  the  crown.  His  figure  was  growing  somewhat  portly, 
but  had  by  no  means  given  up  pretensions  to  elegance. 
He  thrust  his  fingers  into  his  closely-buttoned  coat,  put 
the  other  hand,  holding  his  shiny  hat,  behind  him,  and 
began  : 

He  deplored  the  fratricidal  strife.  He  dwelt  upon  the 
horror  it  was  exciting  throughout  the  European  world. 
He  apprehended  the  immediate  recognition,  by  England, 
of  the  Southern  Confederacy.  He  could  not  blame  our 
young  countrymen  if  they  hesitated  to  offer  themselves 
for  immolation  in  this  scene  of  unnatural  slaughter.  Pie 
opined  that  every  rational  citizen  must  secretly  regret  that 
the  seceding  States  had  not  been  let  alone,  as  they 
desired.  For  one,  he  was  not  ashamed  to  espouse  the 
unpopular  side.  Nothing  should  intimidate  him  in  per- 
forming the  most  painful  and  responsible  duty  a  friend 
of  his  country  is  ever  called  upon  to  discharge,  namely, 
opposing  himself  to  the  popular  infatuation  of  his  fellow- 
citizens. 

It  did  require  some  courage  to  offer  such  a  speech  in  a 
Vermont  town-meeting,  in  those   days.      It  roused  the 


212  THEODOKA  !    A   HOME    STOET. 

whole  assembly  as  no  appeal  to  arms  could  have  done. 
Men  who  never  "  made  remarks  "  before,  sprang  to  their 
feet,  and  flung  out  sentences  hard  with  sense,  warm  with 
heart,  shai-p  with  wit. 

The  loyalty  of  a  republic  is  a  loyalty  to  ideas ;  and  the 
debates  of  an  American  mass-meeting  go  to  the  founda- 
tion principles  of  freedom  and  order. 

As  they  showed,  in  this  homely,  forcible  way,  that  the 
essential  element  of  a  democratic  government  was  at  stake 
— that  the  veiy  Hfe  of  the  nation  was  in  peril — they 
wrought  each  other  to  a  fervor  of  patriotism. 

Resolutions  of  lidelity  to  the  Union,  and  of  praise  to  the 
soldiers  in  the  field  were  passed.  The  bounty  to  be  given 
volunteers  was  fixed.  The  immediate  demand  was  for 
men  to  fill  up  the  regiments  wasted  by  battle  and  disease. 
All  that  remained  was  to  find  these  recruits. 

The  villages  of  Yermont  and  New  Hampshire  were  not 
overrun  with  young  men. 

Boys  who  have  a  fortune  to  seek,  see  a  more  hopeful 
chance  of  finding  it  in  the  cities,  or  the  "West.  Rock- 
bridge had  responded  nobly  to  the  first  call  for  volunteers, 
and  now,  who  was  there  to  go?  It  was  so  inconvenient 
for  everybody,  that  everybody  thought  somebody  else 
could  surely  go  better  than  he.  There  was  a  trying 
struggle  as  men  looked  around  on  their  neighbors.  The 
faces  of  anxious  mothers,  of  feeble  wives,  of  little  chil- 
dren, rose  before  them,  so  that  it  was  difficult  to  see  what 
ought  to  be  done. 

Colonel  Welch  announced,  with  frigid  deliberation,  that 
if  there  was  no  other  business  before  the  meeting,  oppor- 
tunity would  now  be  offered  for  persons  to  present  their 
names  as  volunteers,  if  any  desired  to  do  so.  There  was 
a  moment  of  oj)pressive  silence. 


TOWN-MEETING,    A.ND    WHAT   CAME    OF    IT.  213 

It  was  a  relief  when  Mr,  Cameron  rose  and  came 
forward  on  the  platform.  He  was  a  natui-al  leader.  The 
parish  he  had  counselled  and  comforted  for  twenty-five 
years,  had  learned  to  trust  his  judgment.  Even  men 
who  hated  all  ministers,  and  who  called  him  stifE  and  stern, 
believed  in  his  well-tried  integrity  and  sense.  With  his 
first  words,  every  one  settled  down  as  if  things  were 
likely  to  go  right. 

]^o  eloquence  is  so  effective  as  that  which  simply 
lends  a  human  voice  to  a  great  crisis.  Nothing  inspires 
men  like  the  consciousness  that  they  are  acting  on  the  same 
plan  with  the  heroes  of  all  ages.  In  a  few  clear,  cogent 
sentences,  Mr.  Cameron  applied  truths,  broad  as  mankind 
and  old  as  time,  to  the  business  before  this  particidar 
town-meeting,  and  every  heart  w^as  thrilled  as  by  a  trum- 
pet-call. He  was  an  orator  of  few  gestures  and  few 
metaphors ;  but  the  genuine  and  lofty  feeling  which 
burns  in  a  powerful  eye,  fills  the  tones  of  a  manly  voice, 
and  gives  a  self-forgetting  dignity  to  the  altitudes  of  a 
stalwart  form,  can  make  itself  felt  without  embellishments. 
As  he  spoke,  the  duty  of  the  citizens  rose  to  a  glorious 
privilege.  Harry  Blunt  took  his  place  beside  Leonidas, 
and  the  rest  of  them.  Hearts  beat  high  with  the  noble 
passion  of  patriotism.  It  seemed  fitting  to  die  for  one's 
country. 

"When  he  closed,  there  rail  through  the  room  that 
rustle  and  sigh  which  first  show  an  audience  how  fixed 
in  attention  they  have  been.  At  the  same  moment, 
a  quick,  energetic  step  was  heard,  coming  up  the  aisle. 

Theodora,  who  was  sitting  near  the  platform,  turned 
her  head  at  the  sound.  People  were  standing  so  that  she 
could  not  see.  Her  heai-t  stood  still  to  listen ;  it  could 
not  be .    She  was  aware  of  a  stir  and  sensation  creep- 


214  THEODOKA  !    A    HOilE    STORY. 

ing  from  the  back  to  the  front  of  the  room,  as  that  foot- 
step came  nearer.  Yes,  it  is  /  Donald  steps  out  into 
the  open  space,  says,  "  Put  me  down,  Colonel,"  and  is  off 
again. 

The  old  hall  rang  with  applause.  Miriam  smothered 
a  little  groan.  Theodora's  heart  swells  as  if  it  would 
burst  with  a  proud  tenderness.  Her  fathei"'s  eves  meet 
hers  with  kindred  feelmo:.  Donald  is  standinc;  where 
they  can  see  him  now,  but  he  will  not  look  at  them. 

Here  comes  another  volunteer,  who  has  two  brothers 
already  in  the  field.  He  is  not  of  age.  His  father  rises 
to  say,  "  I  had  hoped  to  keep  this  boy  at  home,  but  if 
the  country  needs  him,  he  must  follow  his  brothers."  He 
sits  down  amid  the  loud  cheers  of  the  men  and  the  silent 
blessings  of  the  women. 

From  the  back  of  the  room,  came  the  name  "  Richard 
F.  Larabee."  Cheers  again,  but  under  the  applause, 
quick  sympathy  for  the  young  wife  mth  her  flock  of 
babies.  This  feeling  is  so  strong  that  Mr.  Flanigan,  the 
shoemaker,  delivers  a  short  speech  to  the  effect  that  he 
will  be  personally  responsible  that  no  young  family  left 
behind  by  a  Rockbridge  volunteer  shall  lack  for  a  fath- 
er's care.  Every  one  knew  that  Mr.  Flanigan's  word  was 
as  good  as  his  bond ;  neither  being  good  for  anything, 
liarabee  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  Dea.  Perley,  who 
said  nothing,  gave  him  a  grip  of  the  hand  which  made 
him  sure  that  whatever  a  generous  and  faithful  neighbor 
coiild  do,  would  be  done  for  Janet  and  the  children. 

Recraiting  went  on  bravely.  Here  is  a  reckless  fellow 
who  has  been  through  wild  adventures  in  California  and 
Nevada.  "  He  will  make  a  daring  soldier,"  they  say. 
Then  comes  a  sturdy,  honest  young  man,  brown  with 
work  on  his  father's  farm.     "  There's  a  boy  that  won't 


TOWN-MEETING,   AND   WHAT   CAME   OF   IT.  215 

shirk,  whatever  they  give  him  to  do,"  one  neighbor  mut- 
ters to  another. 

Mr.  Foss,  who  employs  twenty  or  thirty  "  hands "  in 
the  mill,  makes  a  speech,  regretting  that  he  is  too  old  to 
go  himself,  but  promising  his  employees  that  if  any  of 
them  wish  to  enlist,  their  places  shall  be  guaranteed  them 
when  they  come  back.  Before  the  cheers  which  greet 
this  announcement  die  away,  four  of  the  mill  men  come 
forward.  When  thirty  names  are  enrolled,  it  is  announced 
that  a  recruiting  office  will  be  open  in  that  place  for  a 
week,  and  the  meeting  breaks  up. 

Theodora  saw  old  friends  crowding  around  Donald,  but 
she  could  not  bear  to  be  separated  from  him  any  longer. 
Quickly  and  quietly  she  made  her  way  to  his  side.  Mr. 
Graves  had  him  by  the  hand,  so  she  took  his  left  arm 
without  speaking.  He  looked  down  to  see  who  it  was, 
smiled,  pressed  her  hand  closely  to  his  side,  and  went  on 
listening  to  his  rough,  old  friend. 

"  If  it  wa'  n't  for  this  plaguey  old  rheumatiz,"  Mr. 
Graves  was  saying,  "  I  'd  go  along  with  ye,  old  as  I  be. 
You  'n  I  enlisted  together  once,  didn't  we  !  You  've  ben 
a  good  soldier,  too  ;  I  've  marked  ye.  It's  helped  me 
many  a  time,  thinking  of  my  comrad.  Wal,  good  luck 
to  ye,  my  boy.  Take  care  of  yerself  and  don't  let  them 
rebels  hit  ye,  if  you  can  help  it." 

Mr.  Fenton  stepped  up,  and  bowing  low  to  Miss  Theo- 
dora, bestowed  his  hand  with  a  flomish,  on  the  young 
volunteer. 

"  Good-evening,  good-evening,  Mr.  Cameron.  I  was 
not  aware  that  you  were  in  town.     Not  vacation  yet  ?  " 

Donald  explained  that  a  class-mate  from  the  town 
above,  who  was  going  to  drive  home,  had  invited  him  to 
come  along,  and  the  little  excursion  was  almost  as  much 


216  THEODORA:    A   HOME    STORY. 

a  siii'prise  to  himself  as  his  fiiends.     Seeing  the  Town 
Hall  lighted,  he  had  stopped  to  see  what  was  going  on. 

"  Your  father  was  not  apprised,  then,  of  your  arrival  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  the  young  man  answered,  curtly,  for  the 
way  the  questioner  tipped  his  wide  face  with  its  sandy 
trimmings  on  one  side  and  thrust  it  forward,  insinuated,, 
"  He  would  not  have  rallied  recruits  quite  so  zealously  if 
he  had  known  his  son  was  before  him." 

Theodora,  who  had  an  antipathy  for  this  gentleman, 
understood  it  so,  and  remarked  rather  haughtily : 

"  No,  Mr.  Fen  ton,  it  was  a  happy  sui-prise  for  him  to 
see  his  own  son  first  to  respond  to  his  appeal." 

"  No  doubt.  Miss  Cameron,  no  doubt,"  replied  the 
lawyer,  with  two  or  three  bows  and  a  wave  of  the  hand 
which  held  his  well-brushed  hat.  "  Yery  gratifying  to 
you,  Mr.  Cameron,  that  your  family  are  so  much  de- 
lighted to  have  you  go.  In  fact,"  said  he,  with  a  French 
shrug,  folding  his  arms  so  as  to  bring  the  hat  to  the  fore- 
ground, "  I  do  not  know  why  they  should  not  be.  You 
vnll  have  very  good  pay,  see  a  good  deal  of  the  country, 
and,  I  hope,  not  have  much  fighting  to  do." 

"  I  don't  know  how  that  may  be,  sir,"  answered  Don- 
ald, coolly.     "  I  hope  to  do  my  duty." 

The  brother  and  sister  made  their  way  out  slowly, 
speaking  with  old  friends  at  every  step.  Miriam  was 
waiting  for  her  father,  who  was  kept  in  consultation. 

"  Good-evening,  Hattie,"  said  Donald,  to  Mrs.  Train, 
an  old  schoolmate  who  had  married  another  old  school- 
mate.    "  Where 's  Will  ?" 

"Gone,"  said  she,  in  an  under-tone.  "I  thank  my 
stars  I  had  the  sense  to  make  hun  go.  It  was  all  I  could 
do  to  keep  him  from  enlisting  the  first  time,  and  I  haven't 
slept  three  weeks  since  I  saw  this  call  for  troops.     I  beg- 


TOWN-MEETING,    AND   WHAT   CAME   OF   IT.  217 

ged,  and  I  coaxed,  and  I  cried.  If  you  '11  believe  it,"  slie 
was  talking  in  emphatic  whispei"s  behind  her  fan,  look- 
ing up  at  Donald  with  ejes  which  he  used  to  think  be- 
witching when  he  was  sixteen — "  if  you  will  believe  it, 
I  actually  went  down  on  my  knees  to  that  fellow  before 
I  could  persuade  him  that  he  must  have  business  in 
Canada." 

She  ended  with  a  tragic  gesture,  and  began  to  fan  her- 
self violently. 

"  I  sha'n't  see  him,  then,  before  I  go  ? " 

"  Well,  I  hope  indeed  you  won't !  Dear  me  !  If  "Will 
knew  you  were  going,  Donald  Cameron,  there  would  be 
no  keeping  him.  I  think  it  is  really  unkind  of  him  to 
think  of  going.  Why,  I  should  be  frightened  into  fits. 
I  am  always  nervous  as  a  witch  if  he  stays  at  the  store 
haK  an  hour  later  than  usual." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Mrs.  Larabee  ?  "  asked  Theo- 
dora. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  understand  these  cold-blooded  people," 
said  Ilattie,  tossing  her  pretty  head.  "  She  encourages 
him  to  go,  they  say.  People  are  so  different.  Good- 
night." 

"  People  are  different,''  said  Theodora,  as  she  disap- 
peared in  the  crowd.  "  There's  Ilattie  Train  at  home 
with  her  father  and  mother,  without  a  care  in  the  world, 
worrying  her  husband  down  to  act  like  a  coward,  and 
there's  Mrs.  Larabee  with  her  four  little  bits  of  children, 
and  nobody  but  him  to  depend  upon,  cheering  her  hus- 
band on." 

"  Ilattie  is  very  fond  of  Will,"  remarked  Donald,  with 
an  extenuating  recollection  of  the  bright  eyes. 

"  Fond  enough  to  cajole  him  into  doing  anything  she 
wants,  but  not  fond  enough  to  give  way  to  his  wishes  or 
10 


218  THEODORA:    A   HOME   STORY. 

Ills  duty.  I  don't  believe  she  loves  him  as  much  in  a  year 
as  Mrs.  Larabee  loves  her  husband  in  one  day.  It  isn't 
Will  she  thinks  of  ;  it's  herself.  He  mustn't  do  what  he 
thinks  right  and  honorable,  because  it  would  make  her  so 
nervous ! " 

They  had  reached  the  Larabees,  who  stood  waiting  for 
them. 

"  Hullo,  Donald ! " 

"  How  are  you,  Lan*abee  ? " 

The  young  men  grasped  each  other's  hands  with  a  new 
feeling  of  comradeship,  while  the  sister  and  the  wife 
looked  each  other  in  the  eyes  with  sympathy.  They  had 
not  known  each  other  very  well.  Perhaps  it  is  true,  as 
Western  people  allege,  that  New  England  villages  lack 
sociability ;  but  there  is  a  certain  liking  which  will  flourish 
well  without  much  sociability.  One  neighbor  thinks, 
evei'y  time  he  sees  another,  "  There  is  a  life  being  well 
hved ;  there  is  a  person  I  could  make  a  friend  of."  There 
is  much  of  this  feeling  among  people  too  busy  with  their 
own  work  to  give  much  time  to  each  other,  and  it  is  quite 
as  natural  and  helpful  as  fi-iendliness  which  grows  up  fi-om 
much  talking.  Miriam  used  to  say  that  Theodora  carried 
a  divining-rod  to  find  out  heroes  and  heroines  ;  and  this 
woman  had  long  been  one  of  her  heroines.  She  had  often 
noticed  the  pleasant  glances  of  perfect  understanding  be- 
tween the  husband  and  wife,  the  loving  strength  with  which 
the  mother  seemed  to  control  her  children,  the  bright  in- 
telligence of  her  unpretending  remarks — this  new  bond 
found  them  all  ready  to  be  fiiends. 


XVIII. 

PKEPAKATIONS. 

AT  last  the  brother  and  sister  were  out  in  the  fresh 
evening  air,  walking  homeward. 

"  How  is  mother  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Well ;  poor  mother ! " 

Thej  both  felt  that  his  going  would  be  a  greater  trial 
to  her  than  anyone  else. 

It  makes  a  vast  difference  whether  one's  imagination  is 
naturally  poised,  so  as  to  dip  toward  hope  or  fear.  It  was 
instinctive  with  Mrs.  Cameron  to  expect  the  thing  she 
dreaded.  She  had  great  faith,  fortitude,  and  love,  so  that 
despite  this  temperament  she  was  by  no  means  a  sad  per- 
son. Theodora  had  more  than  the  hopefulness  of  youth  ; 
she  had  that  of  constitution  as  well.  In  danger,  she  took 
it  for  granted  that  no  harm  would  really  happen.  Both 
good  and  evil  being  hostile,  she  was  confident  of  the  good, 
with  just  as  little  effort  of  reason  and  will  as  her  mother 
apprehended  the  evil. 

For  them  to  let  Donald  go  to  the  war  was  an  entirely 
different  thing,  dearly  as  they  both  loved  him.  Theodora 
saw  him  coming  home  a  trimnphant  hero  ;  she  knew  her 
mother's  imagination  would  see  him  a  mangled  coi'pse. 

"  Faith  wasn't  there  to-night,  was  she  ? " 

"  No ;  she  and  Jessie  are  spending  a  week  at  grand- 
father's." 

"  I  wonder  what  they  will  say  !  " 

(319) 


220  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STOKY. 

"  Faith  will  ap])rove  of  it,  because  it  is  right ;  and 
Jessie,  because  it  is  romantic." 

Thej  had  come  now  in  sight  of  the  parsonage. 

"  There's  no  hght  in  the  house,  as  1  can  see,"  remarked 
Donald. 

"  I  presume  mother  is  enjoying  the  moonlight.  She  is 
there  alone,  you  know." 

"  Tes ;  I  remember  how  the  moonlight  streams  across 
that  dear  old  sitting-room  floor.  It  seems  to  me  I  can 
see  some  one  in  the  window ;  yes,  there's  mother,  in  her 
rocking-chair,  in  her  old  place  ;  bless  her !  " 

Theodora  lingered  at  the  door  to  let  her  brother  go  in 
alone.  She  saw  her  mother  start  up,  exclaiming,  "  Why, 
Donald  ! "  in  haK-joyful,  haK-anxious  surprise, — saw  him 
kiss  her,  sapng  cheerily,  yet  with  a  strange  tone  in  his 
voice : 

"  It's  all  right,  mother.    I'm  neither  expelled  nor  sick." 

Then  she  kissed  him  again  and  hugged  him,  and  then, 
still  holding  his  hands,  stepped  back  to  look  at  him. 

"  Ton  don't  know  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you,  dear !  How 
well  you  look  !  AVhy,  what  a  man  you  have  grown  to  be, 
my  httle  Don  !  " 

He  looked  a  man  for  any  mother  to  be  proud  of,  as  he 
stood  there,  flooded  with  moonlight. 

"  Yes,  mother ;  and  I  am  ready  to  do  a  man's  part ;  I 
have  just  enlisted." 

Without  a  word,  she  sank  back  into  her  chair.  As  the 
pale  light  fell  upon  her  face,  it  looked  as  if  years  had 
passed  over  it  in  that  minute. 

Theodora  stood  in  the  shadow,  trembling  with  sympathy 
for  them  both. 

"Don't  take  it  so,  mother,"  begged  Donald,  getting 
down  on  one  knee  and  putting  his  ann  around  her. 


PEEPAEATIONS.  221 

"  Oh,  my  cliild,  liow  can  I  let  joa  go  ! "  she  groaned, 
with  a  look  of  despair. 

"  Why,  mother,  I  should  think  you  would  want  me  to 
go !  You  would  feel  ashamed  if  no  son  of  yours  was 
M'illing  to  fight  for  his  country." 

"  If  you  should  be  killed,  my  son  ? " 

"What  if  I  am?  'How  can  man  die  better — '." 
Theodora  saw  his  face  glowing  with  noble  fire  —  his 
mother's  pallid  as  under  the  shadow  of  death ;  she 
longed  to  have  her  say  one  word  of  God-speed  to  him. 
"  What  would  my  Ilevolutionary  great-grandfather  say 
to  me  if  I  wouldn't  die  to  keep  what  he  died  to  gain  ?  I 
should  expect  my  '  forbears  ^  on  both  sides  to  rise  from 
their  honorable  graves  to  reproach  me." 

She  tried  to  return  his  smile,  but  it  flickered  and  failed. 
She  put  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  laid  her  head  on 
his  shoulder,  moaning : 

"  Oh,  my  child,  if  I  could  know  you  were  trusting  in 
your  Saviour,  I  would  not  say  one  word." 

The  young  man's  face  saddened.  Here,  then,  was  the 
great  trouble.  His  mother  dared  not  risk  his  soul ! 
There  was  a  moment's  silence — then  he  said,  in  a  grave, 
gentle  voice : 

"  Shirking  my  duty  can't  be  the  way  to  the  light,  can 
it,  mother  ? " 

"  No,  dear ;  no." 

Footsteps  were  heard  on  the  doorstone  ;  she  raised  her 
head  and  wiped  away  the  tears.  Mr.  Cameron  and  the 
girls  came  in.  The  father  shook  his  son's  hand  warmly, 
and  laying  the  other  hand  on  his  shoulder,  said :  "  God 
bless  you,  my  boy  ;  you  have  done  right."  There  was  a 
greeting  all  around,  and  an  animated  description  of  the 
town-meeting.      Donald  sat  beside  his  mother,  with  her 


222  THEODOKA  :    A    IIOMK    STOKY. 

liaiid  in  liis,  and  she  tried  to  enter  into  the  conversation 
cheerfully. 

"  Can't  we  have  prayers  without  bringing  a  light  ? " 
asked  Theodora,  when  her  father  suggested,  at  last,  that 
it  was  time. 

"  Yes,  the  moonlight  is  so  beautiful.  Miiiam,  can't 
you  repeat  the  ninety-first  Psalm  ? " 

"  ^He  that  dweUeth  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High 
shall  abide  xinder  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty.  I  will 
say  of  the  Lord,  lie  is  my  refuge  and  my  fortress :  my 
God  ;  in  Him  will  I  trust — ' ;"  as  she  went  on,  in  her 
sweet,  mellow  voice,  a  holy  peace  seemed  shed  upon  them 
all.  The  mother  pressed  her  son's  hand  fervently,  as  they 
listened  to  the  words :  "  ^His  truth  shall  he  thy  shield 
and  hucJder, — a  thousand  shall  fall  at  thy  side  and  ten 
thousand  at  thy  right  hand,  hut  it  shall  not  come  nigh 
thee  / — He  shall  give  His  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep 
thee  in  all  thy  ways."*  " 

As  they  knelt  together,  and  the  earnest  prayer  of  the 
patriot  father  went  up  to  the  Lord  of  Hosts,  no  life 
seemed  too  costly  to  be  offered  for  the  imperilled  coun- 
try. Solemnly,  he  consecrated  his  son  to  the  sacred  cause, 
and  the  mother's  heart  grew  strong.  She  gave  him  up 
to  be  a  part  of  the  great  ransom.  They  entered  into  the 
mystery  of  fellowship  with  Him  who  spared  not  His  own 
Son,  but  gave  Him  up  for  us  all,  and  felt  the  lofty  joy  of 
a  great  sacrifice  for  an  unselfish  end. 

In  thousands  of  homes  this  scene  was  being  enacted ; 
and  this  it  was  that,  despite  all  the  horrors  and  the  crimes 
of  war,  raised  the  nation  to  a  higher  level.  Men  began  to 
call  again  upon  God,  as  they  did  when  the  country  was 
young  and  weak.  They  felt,  once  more,  that  there  are 
things  more  precious  than  money  or  life. 


PEEP  AE  ATION  S .  223 

"When  eternal  principles  have  been  heaped  with  base 
compromises  and  poor,  conventional  codes  of  morality, 
till  they  are  hidden  from  sight,  they  must  burst  through, 
and  come  to  the  surface,  or  the  nation  is  lost.  Let  the 
upheaval  come,  though  it  be  with  earthquake  and  vol- 
canic fires,  burying  these  lying  vanities  under  the  red 
streams  of  war.  A  Republic  is  in  a  better  case,  suffering 
the  loss  of  all  things  for  the  truth's  sake,  calling  on  God 
while  it  fights  for  existence,  than  in  its  sneering  pros- 
perity, when  it  holds  honesty  for  a  jest  and  God  for  a 
m}i;h. 

liecruiting  went  on  successfully  ;  many  from  the 
smaller  villages,  back  from  the  river,  reporting  them- 
selves at  the  Rockbridge  ofiice.  The  volunteers  were 
ordered  to  report  at  Woodstock  within  ten  days,  whence, 
it  was  understood,  they  would  be  summoned  to  fill  vacan- 
cies in  the  Vermont  brigade,  without  waiting  for  a  new 
regiment  to  be  formed. 

The  day  of  Donald's  enlistment  was  but  one  week  be- 
fore Dartmouth  "  Commencement." 

This  afforded  the  two  days  necessary  for  our  young 
soldier  to  go  back  to  Hanover,  dispose  of  some  effects, 
pack  the  rest,  say  good-bye  to  old  friends  and  old  haunts, 
and  take  his  diploma.  Both  he  and  his  class  were  glad 
that  he  could  be  with  them  at  the  last.  Theodora  went 
with  him,  and  their  father  joined  them  the  next  day. 

AVas  there  ever  a  girl  who  did  not  enjoy  her  first  going 
to  "  Commencement  ?" 

Theodora  had  an  agreeable  consciousness  that  her  bro- 
ther took  pride  in  introducing  her  to  his  friends,  but  it 
amused  her  to  see  how  critically  he  glanced  her  over 
when  she  was  to  meet  the  men  he  liked,  and  how  jeal- 
ously he  guarded  her  from  the  acquaintance  of  those  he 


234  theodoka:  a  home  stokt. 

disliked.  One  of  these  swung  the  gate  and  came  up 
the  flag-stone  walk,  as  a  group  of  young  people  were  chat- 
ting under  the  trees  in  front  of  their  pleasant  boarding- 
place. 

"  There's  Slocum,  after  an  introduction,  but  he  can't 
have  it,"  said  Donald,  aside ;  so  he  went  down  to  meet 
him.  The  gentleman  who  was  entertaining  Theodora, 
flattered  himseK  she  was  greatly  interested,  but  she  was 
also  listening,  over  her  shoidder,  to  this  conversation  : 

"  How  are  you,  Cameron  ?  So  you  are  going  to  the 
wars,  they  say." 

"  That's  currently  reported  and  commonly  believed. 
Why  don't  you  go,  yourself,  Slocum  ?" 

'■'  I  have  thought  of  it.  In  fact  the  governor  has  made 
some  effort  in  that  direction,  but  nothing  turns  up  yet." 

"  His  Excellency  is  trying  to  secure  your  services  ?" 
asked  Donald,  choosing  to  misunderstand. 

"  Oh,  pshaw,  you  know  what  I  mean.  The  old  gentle- 
man is  trying  to  get  me  a  commission.  If  he  manages 
to  secure  anything  worth  while,  I  beheve  I'll  take  it. 
What  kind  of  a  berth  have  you  ?  Why  can't  you  speak 
a  good  word  for  a  fellow  ?" 

"  I  enlist,  private." 

"  Aha !    What  in  creation  do  you  do  that  for  ?" 

"Why  shouldn't  I? 

"  You  will  find  it  mighty  rough." 

"  It  isn't  exactly  a  pleasure  excursion." 

"  But  you  might  get  a  commission — ^you  have  no  end 
of  friends.   Everybody  knows  you  are  smart,  and  aU  that." 

"  I'll  be  a  soldier  before  I  am  an  officer — if  I  ever  am. 
There  are  enough  capable  men  in  om-  company  who  have 
seen  service  to  take  the  commissions,  and  they  deserve 
them.     I  should  feel  like  a  fool,  commanding  soldiers." 


PREPAEATIOITS.  225 

"  Older  in  practice,  abler  than  myself." 

"  All  right  ;  that's  very  fine,  no  doubt  ;  but  I  am 
troubled  with  no  such  scruples.  I  shall  submit  with  a 
very  good  grace,  if  a  commission  is  offered  me." 

"By  the  way,  Cameron,"  he  continued,  in  a  lower 
tone,  "  who  is  that  pretty  girl  talking  with  CoAvden  ?" 
At  which  point  the  "  pretty  girl "  suggested  to  Mr.  Cow- 
den  that  it  would  be  cooler  in  the  parlor. 

Donald's  oration  had  been  written  weeks  before,  and 
he  had  looked  forward  to  giving  it  as  a  great  event ;  but 
now  it  seemed  nothing,  under  the  shadow  of  the  greater 
excitement  beyond.  That  very  fact  gave  a  manliness  and 
mastery  to  his  delivery,  which  waked  up  the  drowsy  dig- 
nitaries on  the  platform,  and  hushed  the  coquetting  girls 
in  the  gallery.  The  whisper  which  went  around  as  he 
came  on  to  the  stand — "A  volunteer" — made  his  audi- 
ence his  friends. 

The  speaking  face,  the  rich  voice,  the  graceful  bearing, 
the  fresh  thoughts,  and  the  expressive  action  of  the 
young  orator  made  pathetic  appeal  to  his  hearers,  because 
they  were  gifts  already  offered  for  destruction,  if  need 
be,  in  the  service  of  the  flag.  Theodora  heard  whispered 
near  her :  "  Splendid  fellow — one  of  the  first  scholars  in 
the  class — under  marching  orders" — and  then  a  kind, 
shaky,  old  voice  replying,  "  Dear  boy !  I  hope  he  won't 
get  hurt."  She  managed  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  speak- 
er— somebody's  gi-andmother,  and  saw  her  wiping  away 
a  tear,  lodged  in  the  wrinkles  under  her  eye.  She  felt 
like  embracing  that  blessed  old  woman. 

The  soimd  of  clapping  was  like  a  hailstorm  on  the 

roof,  and  bouquets  fell  thick  and  fast  arouud  him  when 

he  closed.     He  picked  them  up  and  turned  his  bright 

face  with  a  bow  of  thanks  to  the  crowd,  looked  up  to  the 

10* 


226  THEODOEA  :    A   HOME    STOKY. 

gallery,  and  caught  his  sister's  eyes,  with  a  smile,  as  he 
went  off. 

How  is  it  that  one  glimpse  will  print  itself  on  the 
memory  while  a  hundred  other  views  of  the  same  face, 
just  as  dear,  and  just  as  perfect,  fade  away  ?  Donald  as 
lie  was  at  that  moment,  radiant,  his  hands  full  of  flowers, 
his  beautiful  hroviTi  eyes  laughing  up  at  her,  tossing  back 
his  hair  with  the  old,  boyish  movement — with  a  sense,  in 
the  background,  of  a  sultry  day,  a  great  crowd  in  its 
best  clothes,  fluttering  fans,  air  heavy  with  heliotropes 
and  tube-roses,  mixed  with  jockey-club,  and  all  manner 
of  made  pei-furaes — this  was  the  vivid  picture  that  rose 
before  Theodora,  in  after-years,  at  the  beck  of  the  faint- 
est association. 

When  the  "  Commencement "  party  reached  home,  they 
found  the  household  in  excitement  over  this  telegram  : 

"  Good  for  Donald — doesn't  get  ahead  of  me — enlisted 
one  day  before  him — have  a  splendid  company. 

"ROBEET    CaMEEON, 

"Ca/pt.  Co.  O, th  Reg.  Minn.  Vols." 

A  letter  from  Kobert  followed  this  despatch,  as  soon  as 
steam  could  overtake  electricity,  saying  that  he  had 
enlisted,  himself,  and  raised  a  company  as  soon  as  the 
President's  proclamation  appeared ;  they  had  insisted  that 
he  should  be  their  captain.  How  heartily  he  entered  on 
the  command  was  easily  seen  from  the  affectionate  pride 
with  which  he  had  already  spoken  of  his  men.  His  wife 
was  brave  and  lovely,  he  said,  and  his  boy — now  six 
months  old — showed  a  patriotic  fondness  for  his  father's 
sword.  "  They  are  secure  of  a  home,"  he  wrote,  "  but  if 
anything  happens  to  me,  I  want  to  leave  them  to  you. 


PREPARATIONS.  227 

who  will  love  tliem  for  my  sake— dear  old  folks  at 
home." 

"  We  count  Jemij  and  the  baby  among  our  very  own, 
though  we  never  have  seen  them,"  his  mother  wrote 
back ;  "  they  shall  never  want  for  any  love  or  help  that 
Robert's  father  and  mother  can  give,  but  the  God  of 
Battles  forbid  any  harm  should  come  to  you,  my  dear 
boy." 

Donald  was  busy  enough  in  the  few  days  that  were 
left  him.  There  was  drill  every  morning,  and  good-bye 
calls  every  evening.  He  was  a  great  favorite  all  over  town, 
and  the  occasion  brought  out  the  good  wishes  of  the  men, 
the  admiration  of  the  small  boys,  the  blessings  of  the 
old  ladies,  and  the  extremely  friendly  sentiments  of  the 
young  girls.  Tlien  there  were  many  little  arrangements 
to  make  about  things  which  he  left  behind,  always  with 
that  dreadfully  suggestive  euphemism,  "If  anything 
should  happen." 

He  was  in  fine  spirits,  meanwhile,  overflowing  with 
affectionate  kindness  to  all  the  family. 

"  I  wish  Donald  wouldn't  be  so  good,"  said  Miriam 
with  tears  in  her  eyes ;  "  it  goes  to  my  heart  to  have  him 
doing  every  little  thing  for  us  that  we  ever  wanted  him 
to,  just  as  if  he  would  never  have  another  chance.'' 

"  Blessed  old  boy  ! ''  exclaimed  Theodora  ;  "  I  found 
this  morning  he  had  been  and  screwed  on  that  hinge  of 
my  writing-desk  that  was  troubling  me  yesterday.  The 
misery  of  it  is,  there  is  so  little  we  can  do  for  him." 

"  I  know"  it,"  said  Faith  ;  "  I  suppose,  in  fact,  the  fewer 
things  he  takes,  the  better  ofl"  he  is.  We  have  put  needles 
and  thread  and  buttons  enough,  into  that  comfort-bag  to 
keep  the  whole  regiment  in  repair.  Then  there's  your 
roll  of  lint,  and  old  linen,  Theodora,  that  Miriam  cried 


228  TIIEODOKA  :    A    HOME    STOKT. 

over  so.  I  don't  see  what  else  we  can  do,  unless  we 
ruffle  his  shirts  and  embroider  his  stockings  with  red, 
white,  and  blue." 

"  Did  you  notice  ?  He  could  hardly  eat  his  dinner 
to-day,  because  poor  dear  mother  had  taken  so  much 
pains  to  get  everything  he  likes." 

"  I  '11  tell  you  one  thing  we  might  do,  girls,"  suggested 
Miriam  ;  "  let  us  have  some  new  photographs  taken  foi 
him." 

"  Me  too  ? "  asked  Jessie. 

"  Yes,  all  four  of  us.  He  ought  to  have  better  like- 
nesses than  those  old  ones." 

"  That's  a  good  idea,"  said  Theodora ;  "  he  made  the 
flattering  remark  about  mine,  I  remember,  that  it  looked 
as  if  I  was  trying  to  smile  with  horse-radish  in  my 
mouth." 

"Do  you  know  the- soldiers  are  not  to  be  unifonned 
till  they  are  mustered  in,  at  "Woodstock  ? "  asked  Faith. 

"  Why,  no  ! "  "  Wlio  said  so  ? "  "  What  a  shame  ! " 
exclaimed  the  rest. 

Jessie  was  especially  disgusted.  "  It  won't  seem  like 
anything  at  all  to  have  them  go  off  in  the  cars  with  their 
every-day  clothes  on.  I  wouldn't  give  a  cent  to  have  a 
brother  go  to  the  war  that  way.  I  thought  they  would 
go  marching  off  in  their  fine  unifonns,  with  flags  flying, 
and  music  playing — " 

"  With  an  aspect  stern  and  high,"  went  on  Theodora, 
"  each  casting  a  last  fond  look  at  the  girl  he  leaves  behind 
him.^  I  am  afraid  you  won't  be  able  to  get  up  the 
appropriate  emotions,  Jessie,  without  the  pomp  and 
circumstance." 

While  they  were  talking,  the  young  volunteer  came 
home  with  theii*  daily  newspaper,  and  the  father  and 


PEEPARATIOXS.  229 

niotlier  joined  tliem  to  hear  it  read.  After  that  the 
question  came  up  in  the  family  conclave,  whether  it  was 
best  for  Theodora  to  return  to  Wheehng  for  another  year. 
Her  parents  disliked  to  have  her  so  near  the  debated 
ground,  especially  in  a  family  of  secession  sympathies. 
Still  she  was  very  fond  of  them,  ardent  as  she  was  in  her 
own  loyalty,  and  was  anxious  to  go  back. 

West  Virginia  had  declared  itself  independent  of  the 
seceding  portion  of  the  State,  and  Wheeling  was  a  loyal 
city.  Her  uncle's  house  was  a  ready  refuge  for  her  in 
case  of  trouble.  It  was  her  darling  enterprise  to  earn 
and  save  enough  to  buy  a  good  piano.  The  second-hand 
uistrument  which  had  made  her  proud  and  happy  when 
she  was  thirteen,  had  been  falling  in  her  esteem,  until 
she  termed  it  "  the  hand-organ  "  whenever  she  talked  of 
it  to  Miriam.  She  did  not  want  Faith  and  Jessie  to  lose 
all  complacency  in  it,  so  long  as  they  had  to  practice 
on  it. 

After  the  council  had  reached  the  decision  that  she 
might  go  if  she  chose  to,  and  gone  back  to  talking  over 
the  general  news,  she  sat  running  over  the  keys  of  the 
old  piano,  and  calculating  how  long  before  she  could  put 
its  successor  in  its  place.  Suddenly  she  whirled  around 
on  the  stool  and  remarked  : 

"  If  any  of  my  relations  should  be  so  rash  as  to  think  of 
giving  me  a  birth-day  present — " 

"  How  can  she !  "  exclaimed  Miriam,  giving  a  graceful 
turn  to  the  ribbon  with  which  she  was  trimming  Jessie's 
hat.     "  Who  ever  thought  of  giving  her  anything  ?  " 

"  If  anybody  did  before,  they  wouldn't  be  likely  to 
after  such  a  hint,"  said  Faith. 

"  Entirely  irrelevant  and  indelicate  remarks,  of  course," 
said  Donald,  catching  at  the  tail  of  Jessie's  cat  and  mak- 


230  THEODORA  :    A    IIOME»  STORY. 

ing  an  unexpected  pause  in  its  trot,  as  it  passed  liim; 
"but  then,  she  may  as  well  finish,  now  she  has  begun." 

Jessie  took  up  the  cat  and  stroked  down  its  fur  and  its 
feelings  without  looking  at  it ;  her  eyes  traveling  from 
one  to  another,  in  a  maze. 

"  Why,  I  thought — "  she  began :  her  honest  sim- 
plicity was  always  letting  out  secrets ;  Faith  made  haste 
to  lay  her  hand  over  her  mouth,  saying : 

"  Oh,  hush.  Puss !  Go  on,  Theodora ;  it  shocks  me  to 
hear  you,  but  go  on," 

"  Well  then,  supposing  anything  so  imheard  of,  should 
happen,  as  that  any  near  and  dear  friend  of  mine  should 
think  of  making  me  some  trifling  present." 

"  Trifling !  Does  she  mean  a  reflection  on  her  last 
year's  presents  ? ''  muttered  Faith. 

"  Didn't  I  work  night  and  day  to  finish  that  lace  set 
for  her  ? ''  Miriam  put  in. 

"Didn't  I  deny  myself  paper  collars  and  pantaloon- 
straps,  to  buy  her — what  was  it  ? ''  exclaimed  Donald. 

Theodora  spread  out  her  hands,  deprecatingly.  "  Breth- 
ren and  sistren !  Ton  have  overwhelmed  me  with  favors 
in  the  past ;  but  it  is  war-time ;  I  beg  you  won't  impoverish 
yourselves  on  my  account;  only  if  you  should  be  so 
injudicious  as  to  get  anything  for  me,  I  was  just  going  to 
remark,  if  I  might  be  so  bold,  that  nothing  would  sui-prise 
and  delight  me  so  much — " 

"  Out  with  it ! " 

"  As  a  United  States  flag." 

"  Huri'ah ! 

"  '  Long  may  it  wave 
O'er  the  fair  and  the  brave ! '  " 

shouted  Donald,  flourishing  the  daily  newspaper  over  his 
head.     "Would  you  like  it  six  feet  by  fom-  ?  " 


PREPAEATIONS.  231 

Miriam  and  Faitli  exclianged  glances,  a  little  discon- 
certed, for,  as  Jessie  knew,  they  had  just  been  laying 
other  plans  for  birtli-day  presents. 

"  You  see,"  said  Theodora,  "  Mrs.  Tori-ington  has  the 
red,  white,  and  red  draped  over  the  piano  in  the  drawing- 
room,  where  I  have  to  sit  under  its  shadow  for  hours 
every  day.  It  would  be  a  relief  to  my  feelings  if  I  could 
have  the  red,  white,  and  blue  over  the  mantle  in  my  own 
room." 

"  Would  they  like  it  ?  "  asked  her  mother. 

"  I  don't  suppose  they  would  like  it  much ;  but  they 
would  not  interfere  with  it.     My  room  is  my  castle." 

"  You  are  right,  Theodora,"  said  her  father.  "  If 
you  can't  be  allowed  so  much  as  your  country's  flag  in 
your  own  room,  you  certainly  don't  want  to  stay  there." 

"  Come  here,  Jessie,  and  let  me  try  this  on,"  said 
Miriam,  as  she  fastened  her  thread.  It  was  a  last  Sum- 
mer's hat  of  her  own,  which  she  had  been  making  over 
and  trimming  for  the  younger  sister.  "  There,  mother, 
girls,  how  will  that  do  ?  "  she  asked,  as  she  perched  the 
jaunty  little  gypsy  thing  upon  the  mass  of  curls,  tipped  it 
down  so  as  to  shade  the  white  forehead,  and  tied  the  blue 
strings  under  the  softly -rounded  chin. 

The  little  girl  looked  inquiringly  from  one  to  another, 
and  met  pleased  eyes  on  eveiy  side.  She  was  pretty  as  a 
trailing  arbutus — one  of  the  pinkest,  and  downiest,  and 
sweetest  of  its  race,  and  the  hat  was  really  artistic  in  its 
effect ;  but  nobody  said  anything  of  the  kind. 

"  That  will  do  nicely,  unless  it  is  a  little  too  dressy," 
was  Mrs.  Cameron's  comment.  "  Isn't  that  ribbon  rather 
too  long  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  think  not ;  it  was  just  such  a  piece,  and  I  hated 
to  cut  it." 


232  THEODORA:  A  ho:me  stokt. 

Ah,  Miriam  !  you  know  well  enough  you  have  used  all 
your  coutrivauce  to  get  those  long,  blue  ends  to  float  over 
the  sunny  curls. 

"It  looks  as  if  it  grew  on  purpose  for  her/'  said 
Theodora,  picking  out  the  bows,  and  giving  the  rosy  cheek 
a  fond  pat. 

"  You  mustn't  be  vain,  my  dear,  or  we  shall  have  to 
give  it  to  Ebenezer,"  said  her  father,  with  a  good-natured 
smile.  "  Ebenezer  "  had  been  the  family  scarecrow  ever 
since  Miriam  was  a  baby,  being  held  up  as  residuary  leg- 
atee of  everything  that  the  children  quarelled  over  or  were 
proud  of.  Then  he  was  a  small  child  in  a  poor  family, 
close  by — now  he  was  a  large,  awkward  lout,  with  a  heavy 
shock  of  yellow  Lair.  So  Jessie  laughed  at  the  picture  of 
her  dainty  little  hat  perched  on  his  frowsy  head;  she 
went  to  the  glass  to  see  for  herself,  and  her  violet  eyes 
brightened  with  pleasure.  Theodora  could  not  but  think 
how  soon  her  sweetness  would  be  eaten  up  with  vanity  if 
she  were  in  the  hands  of  such  a  mother  as  Mrs.  Jack 
Walton,  who  would  have  discussed  every  article  of  her 
dress  as  if  it  were  a  matter  of  life  and  death,  and  have 
praised  her  beauty  as  freely  as  if  she  had  been  a  mere 
picture. 

"  Here  is  something !"  exclaimed  Donald,  who  was 
glancing  over  the  Yermont  items  of  the  Journal.  "  Pre- 
pare youi-self ,  Theodora  !  '  B.  J.  Walton,  son  of  Hon. 
S.  H.  Walton,  of  Waltonville,  accepts  a  commission  as 
captain  of  Co.  B,  in  the  — th  Regt.  of  Yt.  Yolunteers.'  " 

"There  !  that's  the  regular  way  for  disappointed  lovers 
to  do,"  remarked  Faith — "  go  off  to  the  wars  and  fall  on 
a  heap  of  the  slain,  while  gallantly  leading  a  desperate 
charge.  Think  what  remorse  will  prey  upon  you  when 
it  comes  to  that." 


PEEPAItATIONS.  233 

"  Disappointed  lovers  !  "  laughed  Theodora.  "  Some 
other  girl  has  cured  his  disappointment  long  ago,  no  doubt ; 
that's  the  regular  way  ! " 

"  Only  think  how  proud  you  might  have  been  of  your 
Captain,"  said  Miriam,  picking  the  shredc  off  from  her 
dress. 

"  Imagine  him  before  the  enemy ! "  exclaimed  Theo- 
dora, drawing  a  pile  of  music  towards  her.  "  I  think  1 
hear  him — '  Had  we  better  advance  or  retreat  ?  I  don't 
know  but  it  would  be  as  well  to  wait  a  while.  It 
looks  very  disagreeable  on  the  field.  If  you  please,  my 
men,  perhaps  you  had  better  fall  back  a  little,  for  the 
present.' " 

They  all  laughed ;  but  the  father,  who  was  apt  to  take  up 
the  cause  of  the  attacked,  remarked : 

"  You  can't  teU  how  such  a  responsibihty  may  bring 
him  out.  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  should  prove  a 
good  officer  and  brave  soldier." 

Theodora  cocked  her  head  on  one  side,  and  made  an  in- 
credulous run  on  the  piano ;  still  she  respected  her  old 
lover  for  being  a  soldier  at  all,  and  did  not  fail  to  trace 
the  course  of  the  '  — th  Keg.  Y.  Y.,'  as  well  as  the  news- 
papers would  enable  her. 


XIX. 

OFFFOKTHEWAR. 

THE  volunteers  were  to  leave  tlie  village  Monday 
morning.  On  Sunday  the  minister  preached  an  in- 
spiriting sermon,  arming  them  with  a  fresh  grasp  on  the 
principles  for  which  they  were  to  risk  their  lives. 

Ml".  Cameron  was  no  politician,  but  he  was  in  the  habit 
of  pleading  for  freedom  and  justice  in  public  as  well  as 
in  private  affairs  with  an  edifying  indifference  as  to  who 
should  be  hit  by  his  arguments.  If  anyone  was  standing 
on  the  track  of  the  truth,  so  much  the  worse  for  him ; 
the  truth  must  have  free  course,  and  be  glorified.  He 
was  under  the  impression  that  it  belonged  to  his  duty  to 
warn  and  exhort  his  people  in  their  relations  as  citizens 
no  less  than  as  neighbors.  Men  were  offended  sometimes  ; 
they  had  been  known  to  protest  by  "getting  up  and 
going  out  of  meeting."  Still  there  was  a  sincerity  and 
candor  about  the  man  which  held  their  confidence  after  all. 

Many  a  young  soldiei*'s  motives  were  ennobled,  many  a 
woman  felt  her  sacrifice  hallowed  by  that  morning's  ser- 
vice. 

In  the  twilight,  the  Cameron  family  gathered,  as  they 
were  used  to  do  Sunday  evenings,  for  "  a  sing." 

There  is  seldom  a  sunset  glory  on  the  upper  valley  of 
the  Connecticut.  The  western  hills  are  too  near  and  too 
high  ;  but  there  are  far-reaching  shadows  that  creep  slow- 
ly across  the  broad  meadows  and  up  the  slopes  of  the 
eastern  mountains,  rising  as  the  tide  rises,  till  the  top- 
(234) 


OFF   FOR    THE    WAR.  235 

most  summits  are  submerged.  They  sat  gazing  at  this, 
and  watching  for  the  stars  as  they  came  out,  one  after 
one,  in  the  deepening  sky,  while  they  sang  once  more  to- 
gether the  dear  old  tunes,  the  well-remembered  hymns. 
Faces  grew  dim  in  the  gathering  shade,  but  voices  and 
hearts  blended  only  more  tenderly. 

Then  they  began  to  repeat  in  turn  verses  from  the 
Bible— strong  woi'ds  of  courage,  sweet  w^ords  of  promise. 
They  all  were  dreading  the  morrow ;  but  each  was 
soothed  and  fortified  as  the  best  beloved  voices  came 
through  the  starry  darkness,  bringing  such  messages  of 
heavenly  cheer. 

"  Donald,  won't  you  pray  with  us  once  more  before 
you  go  ? ''  the  father  asked,  just  before  they  knelt. 

"  Oh,  why  did  he  ask  him  !  "  thought  Theodora,  with  a 
shock  of  alai-m.  The  children  had  been  used  to  praying 
aloud  at  Sunday  evening  worship,  even  when  they  were 
little,  and  the  brothers  had  often  done  so  as  they  grew 
older ;  but  it  was  more  than  a  year  now  since  she  had 
heard  Donald's  voice  in  prayer.  She  knew  more  than 
any  one  else  of  the  doubts  he  had  been  wading  through. 
She  thought  he  would  refuse,  and  she  di'eadcd  a  discord 
in  the  sad  sweetness  of  this  last  evening. 

But  he  hesitated  only  one  moment ;  then,  humbly  and 
simply  as  a  little  child — a  little  child  that  had  lost  its 
way — he  begged  the  heavenly  Father's  care  for  them  all. 

"  It  was  good  to  hear  you  pray  once  more,"  Theodora  , 
said  to  him,  as  she  bade  him  good-night  at  the  door  of 
his  room. 

"  I've  never  given  over  that,"  he  said.  "  Sometimes  it 
has  come  almost  to  tlie  old  soldier's  prayer,  '  Oh,  God,  if 
there  is  a  God,  save  my  soul,  if  I  have  a  soul;'  but  I 
have  felt  all  along  that  I  must  keep  open  communication 


236  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

between  my  spint  and  tlie  Father  of  Spirits,  or  it  was  all 
over  with  me." 

"  Don't  you  get  into  tlie  light,  yet  ?  "  the  sister  asked, 
twisting  a  loop  of  his  dressing-gOAVTi  around  its  button, 
and  looking  wistfully  up  into  his  face. 

"IS^ot  as  I  want  to.  But,  I  tell  you,  Theodora,  if 
Christianity  isn't  true,  it  ought  to  be ;  it  fits  so  exactly 
into  one's  life  and  wants  at  such  a  time." 

"  What  ought  to  be,  is — in  God's  plans,"  she  answered, 
with  a  bright  smile,  drawing  down  his  face  for  a  good- 
night kiss. 

The  mother  said  the  hard  good-bye,  the  next  morning, 
in  her  own  room  ;  but  the  father  and  sisters  went  to  the 
depot — as  half  the  villagers  went — to  see  the  soldiers  off. 

There  was  only  a  drum  and  a  fife,  and  a  hundred  men, 
in  their  ordinary  dress,  packed  into  common  railroad- 
cars.  'No  eagle  lighted  on  their  banners.  In  fact,  if 
there  had  been  any  eagle,  there  was  not  any  banner.  A 
tame  crow,  which  belonged  to  Mr.  Joyce,  had  the  bad 
taste  to  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the  column  as  they 
were  marching  to  the  station,  and  flutter  obliquely  along 
before  them.  They  scared  him  away,  but  he  would  come 
back,  and,  after  they  were  in  the  cars,  ran  along  on  the 
roof,  croaking,  after  his  master's  sinister  fashion.  Xo 
music — no  flags — no  unif  onn — no  glorious  omen  ;  but  of 
brave  hearts,  tears,  smiles,  blessings,  and  hurrahs,  no  lack. 

A  dense  crowd  blackened  the  sand  for  rods  around  the 
little  depot.  Most  of  the  women,  and  not  a  few  of  the 
men,  were  weeping,  as  if  they  looked  their  last  on  their 
dear  boys.  The  young  volunteer  went  in  and  out  among 
them,  looking  courageous,  and  saying  often,  "  Don't, 
mother ;  don't  cry.' ' 

Larabee's  tall  figure  was  the   unconscious    centre   of 


OFF    FOE    THE    WAE.  237 

mauy  eyes,  as  lie  stood  with  liis  ^^ouiigest  cliild  in  his 
arms,  nestling  her  flaxen  head  against  his  brown  beard ; 
an  older  girl  holding  fast  by  his  hand,  while  a  boy,  four 
years  old,  kept  an  affectionate  hold  on  one  of  his  coat- 
tails.  His  wife  stood  close  beside  him,  trying  her  best  to 
be  brave,  but  looking  very  pale,  with  dark  cu'cles  around 
her  eyes, 

Jim  Bangs,  the  Nevada  adventurer,  was  pushing  rest- 
lessly about  among  the  crowd,  with  a  joke  for  every- 
body, but  continually  coming  back  to  an  old  lady  who 
sat  by  a  window  in  the  station-house,  sobbing  quietly. 
Jones,  the  carpenter,  well  of  his  wound,  was  going  back 
with  the  rest.  He  was  a  reassuring  sight,  as  a  man  who 
had  been,  and  come  back  alive.  Wherever  he  moved, 
people  gathered  around  him,  asking  questions.  The 
modest  little  man  looked  impatiently  up  the  railroad- 
track  for  the  train  to  come  and  deliver  him. 

As  Donald  stood  on  the  platform,  turning  tears  into 
laughter  for  a  gi-oup  of  friends  around  him,  a  little, 
pale-faced  old  woman,  with  a  thin  black  shawl  strained 
around  her  shoulders  and  lace  mitts  on  her  large-jointed 
hands,  came  working  her  way  through  the  throng  towards 
him.  She  had  a  lai'ge  bundle,  done  up  in  newspaper, 
and  tied  with  a  selvidge  string,  which  she  put  into  his 
hands  with  a  mysterious,  triumphant  air. 

"  Why,  Mrs,  Graves,  what's  this  ?  Did  you  come 
down  on  pui-pose  to  see  us  off  ?     I  feel  honored." 

"  There,  Donal'",  you  jes'  take  that,"  she  said,  adminis- 
tering a  pat  to  the  bundle,  to  make  sare  it  did  not  escape 
him.  "  Mr.  Gi'aves,  he  wa'n't  for  lettin'  on  me  bring  it. 
'He  won't  want  to  be  bothered  with  none  of  your  stuff,' 
says  he ;  but  I  says  to  him,  says  I,  '  You  jist  let  me 
alone.     1  know  what  that  boy  likes,  and  he's  agoin'  to 


238  THEODORA  !    A    HOME    STORY. 

have  it,  to  start  on.'  Don't  I  remember  when  you  was 
a  little  feller,  knee-high  to  a  toad,  how  you  used  to 
stand  by  and  watch  me  fryin'  nut-cakes,  and  say,  '  There 
a'n't  no  nut-cakes  like  yourn,  Miss  Graves,  from  Dan  to 
Baresheby '  ?  Them's  the  very  words  you  said,  the  Win- 
ter afore  yer  mar  put  ye  into  ti'ousers.  I  says  to  Mr. 
Graves,  says  I,  '  He's  agoiu'  to  hev  some  o'  them  very 
nut-cakes  for  luncheon,  and  I'll  bet  ye  they'll  taste  jist 
as  good  to  him  as  they  ever  did.'  I  got  up  real  early, 
and  fried  'em  this  momin',  so's  to  hev  'em  fresh.  The 
cheese  is  some  from  the  Home  farm.  I  calc'lated 
't  would  kind  o'  please  'em  to  hev  ye  hev  some  o'  that ; 
they  used  to  think  such  an  awful  sight  on  ye.  I  knew 
they  couldn't  be  down  this  momin',  it's  such  a  good 
hay  day." 

"  Good  on  your  head ! "  exclaimed  the  young  soldier, 
shaking  hands  warmly,  and  holding  the  uncouth,  some- 
what greasy  bundle,  as  if  it  was  a  treasure. 

"  Tell  Mr.  Graves  I  believe  he's  a  regular  copperhead, 
to  be  trying  to  keep  back  aid  and  comfort  from  the 
United  States  forces  in  that  way.  I  promise  you,  I  shall 
be  thinking  of  you,  and  the  good  old  times  in  your 
kitchen,  while  I  feast  on  your  rations." 

As  he  finished,  he  was  liftmg  his  hat  to  two  yoimg 
ladies  just  driving  up.  He  turned  over  the  doughnut 
package  to  Jessie's  care,  and  went  to  help  them  out  of 
their  carriage.  There  was  something  about  Donald 
Cameron  that  made  women,  of  all  classes  and  conditions, 
his  friends.  He  was  handsome  and  graceful,  to  be  sure  ; 
but,  more  than  that,  he  had  that  confiding,  easy,  yet  re- 
spectful manner  toward  them  which  a  boy  is  apt  to  gain 
from  the  society  of  a  mother  and  sisters  whom  he  loves 
and  admires.     The  two  gu-ls  he  was  just  handing  out, 


OFF    FOE   THE   WAE.  239 

\vitli  playful  gallantly,  had  been  his  friends  from  child- 
hood ;  but  neither  they  nor  anybody  else  could  tell  which 
he  hked  best  of  the  two — tricksy,  saucy,  kittenish  Mer- 
lie  Myers,  or  self-reliant,  intellectual  Alice  Fenton.  Per- 
haps he  couldn't  have  told,  himself.  He  teased  and 
played  with  the  one,  and  had  right  good  talks  with  the 
other,  and  thoroughly  enjoyed  them  both. 

"  See,"  said  Merlie,  holding  up  one  of  those  lightly- 
twisted  rose-buds,  full  of  carmine  color,  that  grow  in 
old-fashioned  gardens,  with  a  sprig  of  cedar  for  its  back- 
ground. "  You  shall  wear  my  favor  off  to  the  wars.  It's 
lucky  you  started  to-day,"  pinning  it  into  his  button-hole, 
and  tipping  her  head  this  way  and  that  like  a  canary-bird ; 
"  it  is  the  '  Last  Rose  of  Summer  ' —  on  that  bush.  Now, 
Donald,  mind  you  send  me  a  rebel  relic  from  the  first 
battle  you  go  into — will  you  ?  Promise,  or  I  will  take 
this  right  off." 

"  I  pi-omise — I  vow !  I'll  send  you  a  cannon-ball  at 
least,"  he  answered,  laughing  into  the  merry  face  looking 
up  at  him,  with  a  shower  of  auburn  curls  falling  back 
from  it. 

"No,  no  ;  don't  be  hateful,  now.  You  could  send  me 
the  love-letters  out  of  a  dead  rebel's  pocket,  you  know, 
or  some  such  thing." 

"  How  should  you  like  your  love-letters  sent  to  some 
mischievous,  wicked  little  sprite  down  South  ? " 

Merlie  tossed  her  head,  with  a  chai-ming  flush  on  her 
cheek,  declaring  she  should  keep  on  the  safe  side  by  never 
writing  any.  Alice  did  not  quite  like  the  half -quizzical,  half- 
fond  smile  on  Donald's  lips,  as  he  watched  her,  and  said 
to  herself,  she  wished  Merlie  would  not  be  quite  so  free ; 
her  manner  was  as  good  as  a  challenge  to  him  to  send  her 
a  love-letter ;  still  she  would  have  given  anything  to  have 


240  THEODORA  '.    A   HOME    STOET. 

pinned  on  that  rose-bad  herself  ;  but  then,  any  little  thing 
like  that  seemed  to  mean  so  much  more  when  she  did  it. 
Ilow  could  Merhe  have  the  heart  to  joke.  He  might 
never  come  back  again.  She  turned  away,  as  if  to  watch 
for  the  train,  but  she  did  nut  look  up,  when,  the  next 
moment,  Donald  came  to  her  side,  for  tears  had  filled  her 
ejes. 

"  Don't  finish  the  Wallenstein  till  I  come  back,  will 
you  ?     Will  you  wait  for  me,  AHce  ? " 

She  nodded  assent ;  she  could  not  speak  for  thinking, 
"  What  if—" 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  going,  Donald,"  she  said,  when  she 
was  quite  sure  of  herself.  "  I  would  go  in  a  moment,  if 
I  w^as  a  man." 

"  I  thought  you  would  bid  me  God-speed,"  he  said, 
looking  into  her  eyes,  with  a  grateful  smile. 

'•'  Dear  me  !  IS^obody  cares  what  I  think,  more  than  if 
I  was  a  squirrel,"  said  Merlie,  to  hei'self.  "  I  wish  there 
was  something  to  me,  like  Alice." 

But  now  tlie  whistle  was  heard ;  the  locomotive,  with 
its  train,  came  sweeping  around  the  curve  between  the 
hills,  growing  larger  to  the  eye  with  wonderful  speed. 

Then  there  were  hurried  last  words  and  outbursts  of 
tears,  kisses,  and  forced  jokes,  and  the  hundred  men  hur- 
ried into  the  cars.  Under  the  window  where  Donald 
found  a  seat,  stood  his  father  and  sisters  and  special 
friends.  We  all  know  those  precious,  distressing  last 
minutes  before  the  train  starts,  when  we  feel  as  if  it  was 
the  only  chance  to  say  a  hundred  things,  and  therefore 
cannot  think  of  one  thing  to  say. 

But  now  comes  the  "All  aboard  ! " — the  ringing,  the 
shriek  and  puff  of  the  engine,  the  jerks  of  the  coupluigs, 
the  last  hand-grasp  and  look  of  love,  the  tlu*ee  times 


OFF    FOE    THE   WAE.  241 

three  rousing  cheers,  waving  hats  and  handkerchiefs,  and 
the  train  speeds  awaj  across  the  green  meadows,  carrying 
its  yoimg  heroes,  God  only  knows  whither  ! 

"  Letters  from  the  boys  "  were  now  the  great  interest 
at  the  Eockbridge  parsonage.  Those  from  the  captain 
in  the  Western  Army,  were  short,  but  pithy,  affectionate, 
and  hopefuL  Donald's  were  much  longer,  often  rich  in 
humorous  stories  and  graphic  descriptions  of  camp-life, 
always  overflowing  with  love  for  the  home  friends. 

Meanwhile,  the  newspapers  showed  that  the  fresh 
campaign,  under  the  new  General  whose  headquarters 
were  declared  to  be  in  the  saddle  and  subsistence  on 
the  enemy's  country  was  fairly,  hotly  opened.  The 
gathering  wave  broke  on  the  slopes  of  Cedar  Mountain, 
one  Saturday  afternoon,  early  in  August.  By  Monday, 
the  piazza  of  the  Rockbridge  post-oflice  was  white  with 
newspapers  as  men's  eyes  darted  down  the  columns  to 
see  whether  the  new  recruits  were  in  the  action.  One 
after  another  satisfied  himself — "  No  Yermont  troops 
there" — and  went  back  to  read  the  general  news. 

The  same  experience  was  repeated  through  all  the 
August  battles. 

"  Our  Brigade  gets  no  chance  to  strike  a  blow  yet," 
wrote  Donald,  the  first  of  September.  "  The  boys  are 
all  chafing  under  it.  We  can't  see  any  reason  we  shouldn't 
fight,  nor  why  our  Division  might  not  have  saved  the  day 
if  we  had  been  allowed  to.  We  hear  rumors  of  jealousies 
among  generals  preventing  it,  but  we  don't  know.  It  is 
an  odd  experience  for  Yankees  to  be  handled  in  this 
blind  way,  that  soldiers  must  be.  If  there  is  anything 
the  spread  eagle  holds  to,  it  is — ■'  I'm  as  good  as  any- 
body ; '  and  it  is  anything  but  American  to  obey  orders 
11 


242  THEODOKA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

•without  any  notion  of  the  wherefore.  I  fancy  it  will  be 
worth  something  to  this  generation  to  get  the  idea  of 
obedience  and  discipline  into  their  heads.  Obedience  is 
hkely  to  be  either  a  grand  virtue  or  a  craven  vice.  In  a 
republic  there  is  little  to  compel  it,  and  few  men  are  up 
to  it  as  a  voluntary  self-subjection.  So,  T  think  it  is  to 
be  one  of  the  sweet  uses  of  this  adversity  to  teach  our 
citizens  to  obey.  It  does  me  good  to  see  these  restless 
Yankees,  who  never  minded  their  mothers,  and  who 
prided  themselves  on  turning  out  the  schoolmaster,  when 
they  were  boys,  and  have  swaggered  along  with  a  saucy 
independence  ever  since,  bow  their  necks  to  military  dis- 
cipline as  patiently  as  they  do." 


XX. 

THE     FLAG-RAISING. 

EAELT  in  the  Autumn,  Theodora  went  back  to 
"West  Yirginia.  Safety  required  her  to  take  an 
upper  route.  Harpei*'s  Ferry,  which  had  charmed  her 
with  its  grand  and  peaceful  beauty,  when  she  saw  it 
through  wreaths  of  morning  mist,  the  first  time  she  was 
on  her  way  to  Wheehng,  was  now  invested  by  a  large 
Federal  force,  and  liable  any  day  to  become  a  battle- 
ground. 

Lee  had  crossed  the  Potomac,  and  was  summoning 
Maryland  to  his  standard.  Full  of  patriotic  zeal  as  the 
North  had  been,  it  was  not  till  now  that  it  felt  just  that 
resistant  wrath  which  must  have  nerved  the  South  from 
the  first  moment  Government  troops  were  on  Southern 
soil.  Let  a  man  break  his  compacts  with  you,  seize  on 
your  property,  undermine  your  standing, — you  do  not 
take  him  by  the  throat  till  you  catch  him  breaking  into 
your  house.  To  be  sure,  Maryland  was  no  more  an  in- 
tegral part  of  the  Union  than  Georgia,  but  the  majority 
of  her  people  were  true  to  it ;  her  soil  was  the  great  high- 
way between  the  Northern  States  and  the  Capital ;  and 
tlie  rebels  intensified  the  devotion  of  every  loyal  heart  by 
crossing  her  borders. 

The  Torringtons  gave  Theodora  a  cordial  welcome  ;  the 
children  were  uproariously  glad.  The  tea-table  was  wait- 
ing for  her,  but  before  the  meal  was  through  she  felt  that 

1243) 


244  THEODOKA  !    A    HOME    STORY. 

the  Summer  had  ripened  in  them  a  hatred  of  the  Govern- 
ment, and  a  fierce  enthusiasm  for  the  Confederacy,  which 
they  no  longer  tried  in  the  least  to  disguise. 

"  How  did  jou  leave  them  all  at  home  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Torrington,  as  she  turned  the  tea. 

'•'  Yery  well.  My  father  and  mother  sent  their  love  to 
you,  and  told  me  to  thank  you  for  being  so  good  to  this 
child  of  theirs." 

The  lady's  large  black  eyes  melted  into  a  smile  as  easily 
as  they  flashed  anger,  and  she  threw  Theodora  one  of  her 
sweetest  glances,  as  she  answered : 

"I  don't  know  who  could  help  being  good  to  her. 
They  needn't  to  thank  me.  Caesar,  pass  the  honey  to 
Miss  Dora.  That  pet  brother  of  yours  is  through  college, 
I  suppose.     Did  you  have  him  at  home  with  you  ? " 

"  He  is  in  the  army,  Mrs.  Torrington.  Both  my  bro- 
thers are  in  the  army." 

In  an  instant,  it  was  as  if  a  thick  cloud  had  gone  over 
the  sun. 

"  I  fancied  your  brothers  were  too  honorable  to  belong 
to  that  rabble." 

Theodora's  heart  stood  still  for  a  moment,  struck  dumb 
with  indignation  ;  then  it  bounded  on  hot  and  fast. 

"  They  are  too  honorable  not  to  defend  their  country," 
she  answered,  "  and  they  are  proud  of  the  army  they  be- 
long to." 

Mrs.  Torrington  gave  a  short,  scornful  laugh. 

"At  first  there  did  seem  to  be  a  little  sense  of  decency 
in  it,  and  some  gentlemen  among  the  generals,  but  they 
are  getting  that  outrageous  human  nature  cannot  stand  it. 
They  are  just  ravaging  Old  Yirginia,  turning  peaceable 
people  out  of  their  homes,  and  stealing  their  property.  I 
should  rather  a  brother  of  mine  would  belong  to  a  band 


THE   FLAG-RAISmG.  245 

of  robbers.  There  is  honor  among  thieves  and  there's 
none  in  that  araav." 

Theodora  dared  not  speak  lest  she  should  say  some- 
thing she  should  be  sorry  for.  Her  cheeks  burned,  but 
her  hand  was  so  cold  and  trembling,  she  could  hardly 
raise  her  glass  steadily  to  her  lips.  * 

Mr,  Torrington  tried  to  pour  oil  on  the  waters,  by  re- 
marking there  were  excesses  in  every  army ;  but  the  oil 
seemed  to  fall  on  fire  instead,  and  his  wife  replied,  her 
eyes  flashing  at  him  : 

"  Yes  ;  but  what  is  excess  in  other  armies  is  the  order 
of  the  day  with  this  horde  of  ruffians." 

"  Indeed,  Mrs.  Torrington,  I  think  you  are  greatly  mis- 
taken," said  Theodora.  "  I  have  heard  our  soldiers  tell  of 
guarding  the  homes  of  Confederate  famihes  on  their  very 
camp-ground." 

"  It  may  have  been  so  at  first,  but  not  now." 

"  I  hardly  know  why  those  who  refuse  to  be  called  citi- 
zens of  the  United  States  should  expect  to  enjoy  all  the 
rights  of  citizens,"  said  Theodora,  in  as  calm  a  tone  as  she 
could  command. 

"  Caesar,  if  we  need  anything  more,  I  will  ring,"  said 
Mrs.  Torrington.  As  soon  as  he  had  left  the  room,  his 
mistress  went  on  :  "  That  letter,  Walter,  was  from  cousin 
Hugh.    He  writes  they  have  stolen  twenty  of  his  negroes." 

"  Quite  in  character  !" 

"  How  did  they  get  hold  of  them?" 

"  He  let  them  out  to  work  on  the  fortifications  near  the 
outposts,  and  I  suppose  they  wheedled  them  away.  All 
right,  I  presume.  Miss  Cameron  thinks." 

She  never  said  "  Miss  Cameron,"  unless  she  was  angiy, 
aud  she  shot  with  it  a  very  severe  glance  at  Theodora, 
who  replied,  as  they  rose  fi'om  the  table : 


246  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STORY. 

"  I  tliink  if  tliey  were  men,  they  had  a  riaht  to  choose 
the  government  they  wislied  to  live  under.  If  they  were 
things,  that  the  Union  army  had  just  as  good  a  right  to 
capture  them  as  so  many  wheel-barrows." 

She  went  up  to  her  room  trembling  as  one's  arm 
trembles  from  curbing  a  high-mettled  horse.  She  had 
held  her  temper  well  in  hand.  She  had  said  nothing 
unjust  or  unkind,  but  her  face  was  glowing,  and  her  eyes 
were  dark  with  anger  as  she  locked  herself  into  her  room. 
She  would  have  the  storm  out  there,  where  it  could  do  no 
mischef .   How  could  she  endure  scenes  like  this  every  day  ! 

Pattering  steps  and  merry  little  voices  came  up  the 
stairs,  and  dimpled  knuckles  knocked  at  the  door. 

"  May  we  come  in  'n  see  you  un whack  your  twunk, 
Miss  Dowa  ?"  asked  the  twins. 

"  By  and  by,  kittens,  I  am  not  going  to  begin  just  yet ; 
I'll  blow  the  old  whistle  when  I  am  ready."  She  kissed 
their  round  little  faces,  and  shut  the  door  on  their  bright, 
waiting  eyes. 

"  I  must  get  through  it  for  their  sake,"  she  said  to  her- 
self. 

She  went  to  the  window,  threw  open  the  smoky  blinds, 
and  sat  gazing  d(jwn  into  the  turbid  river. 

There  is  a  certain  luxury  in  strong  passion  of  any 
kind,  and  many  people  nurse  their  wrath  just  for  the 
pleasure  of  feeling  its  warmth.  This  girl  had  the  tem- 
perament which  rejoices  in  feeling  the  whole  soul  stir- 
red ;  but  the  New  Testament  had  been  too  thoroughly 
wrought  into  her  conscience  to  let  her  enjoy  a  fit  of  fury. 
To  be  incapable  of  anger  cannot  be  Godlike,  but  the 
emotion  can  never  hold  revel  in  a  soul  Avhere  it  is  com- 
pelled to  listen  to  the  voice,  "  Be  just !  thus  far  and  no 
farther." 


THE    FLAG-KAISIKG.  247 

As  slie  turned  her  head,  she  noticed,  in  a  daintj  vase 
on  the  toilet-table,  one  red-hearted,  half-open  moss-rose. 
It  gave  her  a  qnick  pang  of  generous  remorse.  It  told  of 
a  loving  thought  of  her  before  she  came.  It  was  just  like 
the  delicate  kindnesses  Mrs.  Torrington  was  always  doing. 
It  brought  back  a  hundred  generous  deeds  and  lovelj 
looks.  She  seemed  to  feel  again  the  soft,  cool  hand  that  • 
soothed  her  so  often  in  an  acclimating  illness  she  had  the 
first  Spring  she  was  there.  The  sweetness  of  the  flower 
pleaded  for  its  giver. 

"  Oh,  but  it  was  so  unfair,  so  cruel,  so  rude !"  she  said 
to  herself,  with  Iniit  brows ;  "  but  then,  she  is  so  warm- 
hearted !  What  if  she  is  ?  She  has  so  right  to  say  such 
hateful  things.  But  then,  she  never  was  taught  to  control 
herself.  What  of  that  ?  Let  her  teach  herself.  Of  course 
she  knows  better — she  loves  her  South  so,  it  makes  her 
unjust.  ,So  do  I  love  the  North,  but  I  don't  hold  myself 
free  to  insult  her  about  it.  But  you  have  been  trained 
to  govern  your  tongue  ever  since  you  could  speak.  I 
don't  care,  it  was  wrong.  Well,  what  then  ?  Let  God 
take  care  of  that.  Do  you  look  out  for  youi^self,  Theo- 
dora Cameron !  Are  you  always  fair  ?  Do  you  always 
give  full  credit  to  the  other  side  ?  Keep  yourself  just, 
and  kind,  and  forbearing  ;  that's  your  look-out.  Love  her 
for  what  is  lovely ;  and  be  patient  with  what  isn't." 

When  her  thoughts  had  reached  this  point,  she  bent 
down  to  the  rose  to  drink  in  its  fragrance,  and  the  rose 
looked  up  into  a  face  sweeter  than  its  own. 

Again  came  the  gleeful  chatter  of  the  twins  up  the 
stairway,  and  the  soft  pounding  of  their  little  fists  on  the 
door. 

"  Here  's  a  yetter  for  you  !  "  cried  Pinky. 

"  Fos'man  bwinged  it,"  added  Winky. 


248  THEOTX)EA :  A  HOME  ptoi:t. 

"  Oh.  tJianli  you,  dearies !"  She  seized  it  eagerly,  for 
it  was  Donald's  hand. 

"  Mamma  said  you  didn't  want  us  when  you  yead  your 
yetter,"  said  Pinky,  looking  up,  with  her  thumb  in  her 
mouth,  as  if  she  hoped  to  hear  that  view  disputed. 

"  Will  Pinky-Winky  run  downstairs  and  tell  mamma 
that  Miss  Dora  thanks  her  for  the  pretty  rose  ?  Then 
when  you  hear  the  whistle,  you  shall  come  up  again,  and 
I  have  something  in  ray  trunk  that  will  make  your  eyes 
shine.     Now  run,  like  good  kittens." 

She  could  kiss  them  now  without  any  discord  between 
face  and  heart. 

The  moment  they  had  fluttered  out,  she  locked  the 
door  and  sat  down  to  feast  on  her  letter.  It  was  a  crum- 
pled sheet  written  in  pencil : 

"I^EAE  Ceampton  Gap,  Md.,  ) 
'' Sept.  15,  1SG2.      \ 

"Hip!  Hip!  Hurrah!  My  first  battle  is  a  victory! 
The  enemy  had  a  grand  position  on  the  top  and  slopes  of 
South  Mountain,  but  we  had  the  pleasure  of  pushing 
them  back  and  back  until  they  broke  and  ran  down  the 
other  side,  while  we  held  the  summit. 

"  I  promised  to  tell  you,  my  dear,  how  the  first  battle 
felt.  So  I  shall  have  to  confess  that  when  the  shells  first 
flew  over  our  heads  with  their  fiendish  shriek  and  the 
cannon  balls  came  ploughing  through  our  ranks,  I  could 
have  taken  to  my  heels  with  great  pleasure — I  had  more 
sympathy  with  the  Bull  Eun  renegades  than  any  of  us 
had  in  the  time  of  it.  However,  when  we  were  once 
well  into  the  fight,  I  thought  of  nothing  but  pushing  the 
enemy.  I  never  knew  what  excitement  meant  before. 
When  we  had  f  ous-ht  our  way  to  the  crest  of  the  Moun- 


THE   FLAG-RAISING.  24:9 

tain,  they  made  a  resolute  stand  and  we  battled  it  there 
— haK  an  hour,  they  say — I  had  no  idea  of  time — and 
then  they  had  to  give  way,  and  we  forced  them  down  the 
hill.     I  tell  you,  Theodora,  that  was  grand  ! 

"  I  had  no  idea  there  was  so  much  tiger  blood  in  me. 
I  suppose  ages  of  peaceful  civilization  wouldn't  quench 
the  original  savage  so  that  he  couldn't  be  roused  at  sight 
of  blood.  I  am  glad  to  have  done  my  duty — glad  to 
have  felt  for  once  the  heroic  rage  of  battle  ;  but  it  is 
barbarous  business  and  I  hate  it.  The  men  are  in  high 
spirits,  and  believe  this  is  the  turn  of  the  tide. 

"  We  push  on  immediately  to  the  relief  of  Harper's 
Ferry.  I  am  munching  hard-tack  as  I  write,  and  have  a 
stump  for  my  desk.  Our  chaplain,  who  is  going  back 
with  some  of  the  wounded,  will  mail  this  for  me. 

"  Yours  forever,  Donald." 

The  sister  read  this  letter  at  lightning  speed  to  see  that 
all  was  well ;  then  she  went  over  it  slowly,  drinking  it  all  in 
and  thinking  it  all  over.  Then  she  put  it  in  her  pocket, 
and  went  to  unpacking  with  a  song  and  a  prayer  in  her 
heart.  She  wanted  to  be  alone,  but  she  never  broke  a 
promise  to  the  cliildi'en.  So  she  took  down  a  wooden 
whistle  that  hung  by  a  pink  ribbon  to  her  mirror.  It 
was  one  that  Pelliam  Bell  had  made  for  her,  in  a  frolic, 
to  prove  he  could  whistle  as  well  as  a  Yankee.  She  went 
to  the  door  and  blew  the  signal  which  Pin ky-"W inky  de- 
lighted to  hear.  An  outburst  from  the  nursery  and  they 
came  clambering  up  the  stairs  ;  Winky  grasping  the  bal- 
usters with  her  fat  little  hand,  and  putting  the  same  foot 
forward  every  time,  while  the  bolder  Pinky  proudly 
climbed  in  the  middle  of  the  stair  with  one  foot,  then  the 
other,  like  grown  people. 
11* 


250  theodoea:  a  home  stokt. 

Theodora  stood  at  the  top,  laughing,  and  holding  out 
her  hands  to  them. 

"  Would  you  mind  if  I  came  top.  Miss  Dora  ?  "  asked 
Caro. 

She  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  tying  on  her  hair- 
ribbon,  and  looking  up  coaxingly.  Caro's  hair-ribbon 
was  always  coming  off.  The  little  scarlet  circlet  with  a 
bow  on  one  side,  just  as  it  slipped  off  from  the  end  of 
the  heavy  black  braid  which  hung  down  her  back,  was  a 
familiar  object  on  the  floor  behind  the  piano-stool,  in  a 
chair  in  the  dining-room,  on  the  front  doorsteps.  Aleck 
used  to  declare  it  was  a  comfort  to  know  if  Caro  ever  was 
lost  they  could  track  her  by  her  hair-ribbons. 

"  It 's  too  good  to  be  true — you  are  really  back  again,'' 
she  said,  as  she  came  up  and  threw  her  arms  around  "  Miss 
Dora,"  gazing  up  into  her  face  with  her  ardent  black 
eyes.  Theodora  patted  her  brown  cheek  fondly.  This 
friend  was  not  changed  at  any  rate.  Her  passionate  de- 
votion had  been  almost  burdensome,  sometimes,  but  now 
it  was  grateful,  and  she  retm-ned  her  embraces  with 
a  warmth  that  made  the  little  brunette  supremely  happy. 
The  twins  thought  these  endeannents  quite  superfluous, 
and  clamored  to  see  what  was  in  "  the  twunk." 

So  Caro  threw  herself  down  on  the  floor  at  the  end  of 
it,  while  Theodora  seated  hej-self  in  front,  on  an  ottoman 
which  she  had  made  by  covering  a  box  with  a  piece  of 
gay  patch. 

Pinky- Winky  gi'asped  the  edge  of  the  trunk  at  the 
other  end,  dancing  up  and  down,  asking  questions  and 
raising  a  panic  every  few  minutes  by  leaning  on  the 
strap,  at  the  risk  of  pulhug  down  the  cover  and  decapi- 
tating' themselves. 

"  See  what  my   sister  Jessie  sent   you,  kittens,"  ex- 


THE   FLAG-EAISING.  251 

claimed  Theodora,  taking  out  a  large,  tliin  box.  Slie  slowly 
and  mysterioiislj  lifted  the  cover,  while  the  twins  bent 
forward,  eyes  wide  open  and  lips  parted,  to  catch  the  first 
glimpse.  Two  paper  dolls  with  very  auburn  hair,  and 
very  blue  eyes,  and  very  red  cheeks,  and  a  gorgeous 
wardrobe !  Squeals  of  delight  burst  from  the  little 
women.  They  leaned  forward,  each  eager  to  get  hold 
first. 

"  Pinky- Winky,  you  must  not  do  that !"  cried  Theodora, 
in  terror  for  their  lives.  "  You  wilL  pull  that  heavy  cover 
down,  and  smash  your  poor  little  heads  flat ! " 

Winky  started  back  with  an  awe-struck  expression,  and 
put  her  two  mischievous  hands  in  each  other's  care  behind 
her  back.  Pinky  put  one  arm  around  Miss  Dora's  neck, 
and  leaning  forward  till  her  eyes  were  witliin  three  inches 
of  hers,  asked,  her  airy  ciirls  quivering  with  curiosity: 

"  Would  I  be  a  paper  doll,  then  ?" 

"  Tou  would  be  almost  as  thin,"  she  answered,  laugh- 
ing, and  trying  to  look  very  solemn.  "  See,  you  shall 
have  the  paper  dollies  and  their  clothes  spread  out  on 
this  chair,  the  other  side  of  the  room  ;  then  you  can 
have  a  good  time,  and  be  all  safe.  Jessie  painted  their 
faces  for  you,  herseK." 

"  Now  we  shall  have  some  peace,"  said  Caro,  as  she 
came  back. 

As  often  happens,  the  sister  of  fourteen  felt  how  very 
childish  the  children  were — more  than  their  mother  did, 
or  the  young  lady  friend. 

She  was  full  of  questions  about  the  vacation.  She  never 
tired  of  hearing  about  Miss  Dora's  home.  It  seemed  like 
another  world  to  her.  She  took  out  of  the  trunk  a  pho- 
tograph-album she  had  often  pored  over  by  the  hour, 
and  inquired  about  each  member  of  the  family,  as  she 


252  THEODORA  I    A    HOME   8T0KY. 

lingered  over  their  likenesses.  Donald's  picture  always 
had  a  fascination  for  her,  and  here  was  a  new  one,  sent 
home  from  Woodstock, 

"  Oh,  isn't  he  too  elegant  for  anything  in  his  uniform 
— and  with  side-whiskers !  I'm  glad  he  doesn't  wear  a 
moustache,  his  mouth  is  so  beautifid.  I'll  tell  you  what 
this  looks  hke,  Miss  Dora  !  You  know  mamma's  engrav- 
ing of  Byron  ?" 

"Count  D'Orsay's  profile  likeness  of  him?  Tes," 
taking  the  album  froyi  her  hand,  and  looking  critically  at 
the  photograph,  "  It  really  is  like  it,  isn't  it  ?  Only  Don- 
ald's lips  and  chin  are  less  full,  and  more  firm.  The  ex- 
pression of  the  lower  part  of  the  face  is  altogether  dif- 
ferent— ^but  the  forehead,  and  the  nose,  and  the  curve  of 
that  short  upper  lip,  and  the  shape  of  the  head — ^yes,  they 
are  very  hke." 

"  Is  he  like  Lord  Byron,  do  you  think  ? "  asked  Caro, 
whose  romantic  imagination  had  just  been  drinking  itself 
drunk  from  Lara  and  the  Corsair. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  laughed  Theodora.  "  I  never  saw 
a  sneer  on  his  face  in  my  life.  Donald  isn't  a  genius 
either,  my  dear.  He's  just  a  dear,  noble  old  boy — bless 
him ! " 

She  looked  lovingly  at  the  picture  a  moment,  then 
shut  the  book,  and  handed  it  back,  going  on  with  her 
work  of  sorting  out  the  contents  of  the  trunk  in  piles  on 
the  carpet.  By  this  time  the  ten-ible  infants  had  deserted 
their  paper  images,  and  come  in  quest  of  new  wonders. 

"  Oh,  pwetty  !  pwetty ! ''  cried  Pinky, 

"  Me  see  !"  begged  Winky,  grabbing  Miss  Dora's  dress 
chokingly  by  the  back  of  the  neck  to  lift  herself  up  and 
look  over  her  shoulder. 

It  was  a  glimpse  of  the  red,  white,  and  blue  of  the  na- 


THE   FLAG-RAISING.  253 

tional  flag  that  was  exciting  the  admiration  of  these  joung 
secessionists. 

Theodora  shook  out  its  silken  folds. 

"  That  was  my  birth-da j  present  from  my  brothers  and 
sisters,"  she  said. 

As  soon  as  the  small  secessionists  saw  what  it  was,  they 
made  up  a  face  at  it.  They  were  dramatic  little  creatures. 
Nothmg  pleased  them  better  than  to  make  a  show  of  love 
or  hate,  and  their  mother  had  taught  them  to  make 
grimaces  at  that  flag  just  as  children  learn  to  glower  at  a 
picture  of  Herod  or  Bluebeard. 

"  1^0,  no,  Pinky- Wiuky  ;  not  at  this.  Miss  Dora  loves 
it."  She  kissed  it  reverently.  "  I  can't  let  Pinky-Winky 
come  up  here  if  they  make  up  faces  at  this." 

The  twins  shrank  back,  abashed.  They  were  used  to 
being  laughed  at  and  applauded  when  they  did  it. 

Caro  said  nothing,  but  looked  greatly  interested.  She 
was  getting  into  the  revolutionary  age  when  the  mind 
most  naturally  takes  an  attitude  of  resistance.  The  fact 
that  her  parents  and  most  of  the  visitors  who  came  to  the 
house  were  secessionists  made  her  a  Unionist.  Theodora's 
influence  over  her  was  boundless,  and  the  very  fact  that 
she  shunned  using  it,  in  this  respect,  like  an  act  of 
treachery,  made  it  all  the  more  powerful. 

The  three  followed  eveiy  motion  mth  their  eyes,  while 
"  Miss  Dora "  took  from  the  bottom  of  her  trunk 
a  framed  engraving  of  that  homely  face  which  true  hearts 
all  over  the  j^orth  were  learning  to  love — hung  it  on  the 
wall  opposite  the  door — then  draped  the  beautiful  banner 
above  it. 

She  was  adroit  in  all  manner  of  handiwork,  and  her 
room  had  a  character  of  its  own  in  many  pretty  little 
ornaments  and  conveniences  of  her  contrivance.     Under 


254  theodoea:  a  home  story. 

tlie  picture  she  put  a  bracket  Robert  carved  for  her  the 
last  time  he  was  at  home  ;  then  slie  took  Donald's  plioto- 
graph  out  of  the  album,  placed  it  on  a  small  easel  made 
of  dainty  fretwork,  formed  of  sections  of  butternut  shells 
which  grew  on  the  home  place. 

"  It  looks  like  a  little  shrine  !  "  exclaimed  Caro,  when 
this  stood  on  the  bracket.  "  Why  don't  you  put  this  rose- 
bud there  too  ? " 

"  Did  you  bring  it  here,  or  your  mother  ? " 

"  Mamma." 

"  I  think  we  will  let  it  stand  where  it  is  ;  it  looks  beau- 
tifully on  the  white  toilet-table," 

"  Oh,  Miss  Dora,  I  understand  !"  said  the  young  girl, 
with  kindling  eyes.  "  You'll  not  have  a  rebel  rose  under 
that  flag!" 

"No,  Caro,  not  that,"  she  answered ;  "but  it  wouldn't 
be  quite  pleasant  to  your  mamma  to  have  it  there," 

The  large  black  eyes  softened.  The  delicate  respect 
for  the  rights  and  feelings  of  other  people  which  marked 
Theodora's  daily  life,  had  a  refining,  chastening  effect 
upon  her  young  admirer,  which  she  hardly  dreamed  of. 
The  child  felt  her  persuasions  in  their  long  talks ;  but 
they  were  as  nothing  beside  that  mighty,  subtile  influ- 
ence which  flowed  in  upon  her  constantly  from  a  self- 
control,  fidehty,  and  sweetness  which  were  no  more 
meant  for  her  than  the  violets  in  the  woods  grow  for  the 
hand  which  finds  them  out. 

At  last,  everything  was  in  its  place.  The  room  seemed 
to  forget  that  its  mistress  had  been  away.  Aunt  Phillis 
came  for  Pinky-AVinky,  and  went  through  the  whole 
siege  of  overtures,  parallel  approaches,  stratagems,  and 
surprises  which  were  required,  every  night,  to  induce 
their  ladyships  to  surrender  their  pursuit  of  happiness, 


THE    FLAG-KAISING.  255 

and  go  to  bed.  Then  Theodora  went  down  with  Caro, 
to  sit  a  little  while  in  the  parlor,  between  dayhght  and 
dark. 

Mrs.  Torrington  sat  by  the  window,  and  asked,  as  they 
came  in,  "  Are  you  too  tired  to  give  me  one  song.  Miss 
Dora  ?     You  don't  know  how  I  have  missed  your  music." 

She  was  glad  to  sing  rather  than  talk,  and  sat  down  to 
the  piano  at  once.  She  was  a  lovely  twilight  singer ; 
there  was  a  mysteiy  of  tender  depth  in  her  voice,  that 
blended  with  the  mellow  glooms  of  sunset.  As  she  sang, 
one  after  another,  the  ballads  Mrs.  Torrington  loved  best, 
she  knew,  by  the  gentle  words  dropped  between,  that  she 
was  singing  their  spirits  into  hannony  again.  It  seemed 
genial  and  home-Hke  once  more. 


RBG 
McU 


XXI. 

NEWS     FEOM     THE     FRONT. 

THEY  all  met  at  the  breakfast-table  with  the  old 
friendliness,  and  everything  went  smoothly  till 
Theodora  happened  to  ask,  in  the  midst  of  the  pleasant 
chat,  "  How  are  the  Barclays  ? " 

"IVe  not  seen  the  Barclays  for  two  months  past," 
answered  Mrs.  Torrington,  with  a  warning  chill  in  her 
voice. 

So,  they  had  come  ont  as  Unionists,  no  donbt.  She 
inwardly  blessed  Pinky-Winky  for  raising  an  outcry  for 
more  syinip  on  their  buckwheat- cakes.  AThat  topic  was 
it  safe  to  venture  ! 

Table-talk  is  not  exhilarating  when  you  have  to  look 
every  remark  over,  before  you  utter  it,  to  see  if  there  is 
a  cutting  edge  anywhere  about  it. 

"  What  route  did  you  come.  Miss  Dora  ? "  asked  Mr. 
Torrington. 

"  By  Cleveland.  My  father  thought  the  lower  routes 
not  safe." 

"  I  should  think  not !  Have  you  seen  the  particulars 
of  the  good  news  from  Harper's  Ferry,  in  this  morning's 
paper,  my  dear  ? "  he  asked,  looking  across  at  his  wife. 
"  The  Yankees  have  surrendered  eleven  thousand  in- 
fantry, fifty  cannon,  and  immense  stores." 

"  Their  cowardice  is  worthy  of  their  cause,"  observed 
Mrs.  Torrington. 

"What  if  eleven  thousand  brave  men  have  been  be- 
(256) 


NEWS   FEOM   THE   FRONT.  257 

trayed  by  one  traitor?"  said  Theodora,  who  had  looked 
into  the  newspaper  for  herself.  "I  am  sure  Stonewall 
Jackson  is  too  high-minded  a  man  to  take  much  pride  in 
such  a  victory." 

This  news  gave  her  a  new  source  of  anxiety.  Donald 
had  written,  Sunday  night,  that  they  were  to  move  on 
immediately  to  Harper's  FeiTy.  Had  they  reached  there 
in  season  to  be  surrendered,  with  the  rest,  as  prisoners  of 
war?  She  studied  the  newspaper  accounts,  but  got  no 
certainty. 

Wednesday,  there  were  rumors  of  a  great  battle — 
Thursday,  they  were  confirmed.  Papers,  on  each  side, 
claimed  the  victory.  All  agreed  that  the  slaughter  was 
fearful — the  struggle  one  of  the  most  stubborn  and  ter- 
rific yet  known — the  hue  of  battle  four  miles  long — ^the 
greatest  generals  on  both  sides  engaged. 

Theodora  commenced  giving  her  music-lessons  that 
day  ;  but,  as  she  mechanically  counted  "  One — two — • 
three — four,"  she  heard  the  booming  of  cannon  five  him- 
dred  miles  away,  more  plainly  than  the  piano  exercises, 
and  saw  her  brother,  wrapt  in  an  atmosphere  of  fire  and 
smoke,  more  clsarly  than  the  young  girl  at  her  side. 

It  was  well  for  her  that  her  nature  was  resolutely  hope- 
ful. Though  her  heart  quailed  now  and  then  under  the 
awful  possibility,  she  yet  expected,  somehow,  to  hear 
that  he  was  safe.  It  pained  her  to  think  what  distress 
her  mother  was  suffering.  For  her,  Donald  must  die  a 
hundred  deaths.  Ah  !  the  mothers  went  through  more 
than  the  soldiers  did,  in  that  terrible  time  ! 

All  the  newspapers  which  came  to  the  house  gave  the 
Confederate  version.  Theodora  glanced  them  over — saw 
with  what  miracles  of  braveiy  the  Confederate  troops 
repulsed  greatly  outnumbering  Northem  forces ;  then  she 


25S  theodoea:  a  home  story. 

huiTied  off  to  tlie  city  reading-room,  to  get  hold  of  some 
loyal  paper.  Then  she  read  with  what  desperate  daring 
the  Union  soldiers  attacked  and  worsted  the  rebels  in 
vastly  superior  numbers.  That  singular  fact  she  always 
noticed,  as  she  read  the  report  of  the  same  battle  from 
the  two  sides.  "Whatever  was  done  by  either  party  was. 
achieved  against  overwhelming  odds. 

A  stranger,  who  sat  impatiently  waiting  to  take  the 
newspaper  as  soon  as  she  was  done  with  it,  took  pains  to 
notice  what  it  was,  at  the  foot  of  the  second  colunm,  that 
could  have  made  her  cheek  flush  and  her  eyes  brighten 
so.  lie  did  not  understand  it  much  better  when  he  read : 
"  At  this  crisis,  when  the  key  to  the  position  had  been 
four  times  won  and  lost,  Franklin  came  up  with  fresh 
troops,  and  formed  grandly  on  the  left.  General  Smith, 
with  his  Maine  and  Yennont  regiments,  was  ordered  to 
re-take  the  corn-iield.  Magnificently  they  did  it.  They 
swept  the  field  like  a  cloud  shadow,  fell  upon  the  woods, 
cleared,  them  in  ten  minutes,  and  held  them.'' 

He  looked  up  at  the  young  lady,  who  stood  buttoning 
her  glove,  with  a  proud  smile  still  lingering  on  her  face, 
and  wondered  what  there  was  in  that  to  please  her  so 
much, — gave  up  the  puzzle,  and  went  on  with  his  reading. 
He  did  not  know  that  she  was  a  Yermonter  ;  that  she  had 
a  dear  hero  in  that  division,  and  whatever  gallant  deed 
they  did,  she  felt  a  right  to  glory  in. 

She  walked  along  the  dingy  street  like  a  queen  ;  her 
brother's  division  had  carried  themselves  splendidly ! 
Then  she  laughed  at  herseK — "  How  absurd  !  "  Still  it 
was  not  so  very  foolish,  after  all ;  the  pride  we  feel  in 
our  country,  our  State,  our  soldiers,  is  surely  a  more  gener- 
ous thing  than  any  pride  we  take  in  our  very  selves. 

As  she  came  up  to  the  po.st-office,  she  saw  Moll  Pitcher 


NEWS    FKOM    THE    FEONT.  259 

standing  before  the  door.  The  baiTel-shaped,  tawny  old 
creature  was  welcome  as  a  phantom  of  delight.  She 
stopped  to  pat  her  neck  and  stroke  down  her  face,  and 
then  she  .caught  sight  of  her  uncle  standing  alone  in  the 
office,  looking  over  his  New  York  Journal.  She  went 
quietly  up  behind  him,  and  put  her  hands  around  his 
arm.  He  looked  down,  as  if  shocked  at  the  liberty  some 
one  was  taking,  saw  who  it  was,  and  threw  his  two  arms. 
Journal  and  all,  around  her ;  kissed  her  on  each  cheek, 
hugging  her  hard,  patting  her  shoulders,  and  saying  : 

"  Well,  well,  well ;  you  sly  Puss,  where  did  you  come 
from  ?  Well,  well,  well.  I  am  glad  to  see  you — very 
glad  to  see  you." 

"  I  was  getting  quite  home-sick  for  you,  uncle." 

"  Jump  right  into  the  buggy  ;  I  have  only  to  go  around 
to  the  bank,  and  then  I  will  carry  you  right  out  home. 
See  what  a  glorious  battle  we  have  fought!  If  those 
rascally  rebels  hadn't  thought  discretion  the  better  part 
of  valor,  and  decamped  by  night,  we  should  have  made  a 
final  end  of  them." 

She  found  it  hard  to  persuade  her  uncle  that  she 
must  attend  to  her  pupils,  and  could  not  go  out  to  Esma- 
dura  till  Saturday  afternoon.  Then  she  went  on  her 
way,  cheered  by  sunning  herself  in  the  warmth  of  his 
great  heart. 

She  thought  she  had  nothing  but  hope  for  Donald  ;  but 
when  all  the  mails  for  Friday  and  Saturday  came  in 
without  a  word  to  say  he  was  still  alive,  there  began  a 
trembling  away  in  some  unaclaiowledged  corner  of  her 
heart.  The  very  kindness  of  the  family,  as  they  saw  how 
she  watched  for  the  postman,  made  her  anxious. 

The  change  of  going  up  to  Esmadura  for  Sunday  was 
a  relief. 


260  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

As  her  horse's  feet  clattered  up  to  the  door,  Monday 
mominj^,  she  spied  two  little  heads  at  the  window,  watch- 
ing for  her  ;  the  moment  tliey  saw  her,  they  held  up  a 
letter  against  the  pane.  She  caught  her  breath  in  hope 
and  fear,  sprang  from  her  horse,  and  ran  up  the 
steps. 

Mrs.  Torrington  threw  the  door  open  for  her,  and  gave 
her  the  letter,  looking  very  happy,  saying  : 

"  I  hope  we  have  good  news  for  you.  Caro  says  it  is 
your  brother's  own  hand." 

"  Oh,  it  is ;  bless  you ! "  She  looked  as  glad  as  if  it 
was  her  own  brother,  and  Theodora  vowed  within  herself 
that  she  never  would  mind  whatever  provoking  thing  she 
might  say. 

It  was  a  short  letter,  but  a  great  relief, 

"  I  am  untouched.  It  is  such  a  vtdlderness  of  death,  we 
are  too  busy  to  write.  I  had  to  act  in  Jones'  place  as 
lieutenant.  You  will  like  to  know  that  the  men  are 
urgent  I  should  have  the  commission.  More  in  a  few 
days.     Don't  worry,  darling,     I  am  all  right." 

He  had  already  been  advanced  through  the  grades  of 
non-commissioned  officers. 

The  country  was  all  astir,  pushing  foi'ward  help  for  the 
thousands  of  sufferers  strewn  over  the  fields  and  through 
the  woods  along  the  Antietam.  ISTever  was  an  army  so 
followed  by  the  love  and  care  of  home  ;  but  beyond  the 
utmost  that  care  could  and  love  would  do,  lay  a  savage 
waste  of  distress  untouched.  Brave  young  Hves  went  out 
in  sohtary  patience,  under  the  lonely  stars.  Wounds, 
which  fond  hands  would  gladly  have  tended,  ached  and 
bled,  festered  and  blackened,  before  human  help  could 
reach  them,  over  all  those  acres  of  broken  bones  and 
mutilated  flesh.     Surgeons,  nurses.  Sanitary  and  Christian 


NEWS  FKOM  THE  FEONT.  261 

Commission  delegates  were  hurried  forward,  and  did  all 
they  could  to  meet  the  instant  and  appalling  need. 

The  last  of  the  week,  a  long  letter  from  Donald,  which 
had  been  received  at  home  and  already  sent  Miriam  to 
read,  was  forwarded  to  Theodora.  It  was  written  on  the 
twentieth,  and  gave  his  battle  experiences,  and  then  the 
more  awful  experience  of  helping  to  bury  the  dead  and 
take  care  of  the  wounded : 

"I  was  one  of  the  men  detailed  for  this  ghastly  work, 
and  was  at  it  all  day  yesterday  and  far  into  the  night," 
he  wrote.  "  God  forbid  you  should  ever  dream  of  such 
horrid  sights  as  I  have  seen.  I  would  not  describe  them 
to  you,  if  I  could.  You  preached  a  peace-sermon,  father, 
one  fast-day,  when  I  was  a  boy,  which  made  a  great  im- 
pression on  me ;  but  that  battle-field  was  such  a  peace- 
sermon  as  no  man  ever  preached.  This  hideous  tearing 
to  pieces  of  healthy  young  bodies ! — this  driving  of  the 
souls  of  men  to  their  awful  account — what  a  shocking 
piece  of  business  it  is !  And  yet  we  think  it  was  well 
done,  and  I  did  my  share  of  it !  Well,  the  life  of  the 
country  is  worth  more  than  the  lives  of  all  these  men,  and 
they  suffered  willingly  for  her,  poor  fellows.  I  didn't 
mean  to  moralize,  but  a  man  can't  see  such  sights  with- 
out some  thinking.  Don't  infer  that  I  am  not  glad  to 
be  here.  The  war  had  to  come,  and  since  it  had  to,  I 
would  not  lose  my  chance  to  do  a  patriot's  duty. 

"  I  must  tell  you  about  one  little  incident  of  yesterday. 
The  sun  was  just  going  down,  red  and  thirsty,  when  I 
came  upon  the  coraer  of  the  open  field,  just  on  the  edge 
of  an  oak  grove  where  a  whole  windrow  of  our  men  had 
fallen,  charging  one  of  the  enemy's  batteries.  Their 
colonel  had  fallen  among  them,  and  I  made  for  him,  as  he 


2G2  THEODORA  I    A   HOME    STORY. 

looked  rather  more  alive  than  anybody  else  in  the  bloody 
onelee.  He  was  trying  to  stanch  an  ugly  wound  in  his 
face — cheek  torn  open  by  a  piece  of  shell.  Ilis  horse  lay 
beside  him  groaning  in  mortal  pain,  rubbing  its  head  to 
and  fro  on  the  ground.  I  declare,  I  sometimes  pity  the 
horses  more  than  the  men.  They  haven't  the  satisfaction 
of  knowing  what  they  are  dying  for.  The  officer  couldn't 
speak,  but  he  looked  at  me  beseechingly,  pointed  at  the 
pistol  in  the  holster  of  his  saddle,  and  then  at  his  horse. 
I  understood  that  he  wanted  me  to  put  the  poor  thing 
out  of  misery,  and  saw  by  his  face  I  was  right  as  I  point- 
ed the  pistol  at  her  head.  He  reached  out  his  hand 
feebly  and  patted  the  creature's  beautiful  neck.  She 
lay  quiet  under  his  touch.  He  turned  away  his  eyes  and 
I  fired.  She  shivered  and  grew  still ;  then  I  moved  him 
so  that  he  could  rest  against  her  body  more  comfortably, 
and  tried  to  give  him  water  from  my  canteen,  this  bleed- 
ing makes  such  a  consuming  thirst;  but  he  couldn't 
manage  it.  He  was  growing  faint,  and  I  shouted  to  a 
surgeon  who  came  just  then  within  hail.  '  Hold  on  a 
minute,'  I  said  to  my  man,  '  and  we  '11  have  you  taken 
care  of.'  He  looked  over  to  a  rebel  who  lay  near  us, 
breathing  horribly  with  a  bullet  in  his  breast,  and  mo- 
tioned — '  Him  lirst.'  There's  a  Sidney  for  you,  girls. 
Just  as  much  knighthood  now  as  there  was  in  the  days 
of  chain-mail.  The  sm'geon,  with  a  httle  kind-hearted 
grumbling,  did  as  he  was  desired,  and  while  he  was  at- 
tending to  the  Johnny,  I  thought  I  would  try  what  I 
could  do  for  the  colonel  myself.  I  remembered  how  you 
patched  together  that  foot  of  mine,  mother,  when  I  was 
a  youngster ;  so  I  got  out  Theodora's  roll  of  surgical  ap- 
phances,  brought  the  gap  together  as  well  as  I  could  with 
the  sticking-plaster,  piled  on  the  lint,  and  tied  up  the  face 


ITEWS    FEOM    THE    FKOISTT.  263 

with  the  bandage.  Perhaps  it  was  not  a  first-class  opera- 
tion, but  the  doctor  said  it  saved  him  a  deal  of  blood 
which  he  couldn't  afford  to  lose.  A  squad  of  San.  Com. 
men  came  along  by  this  time  with  an  ambulance,  but 
there  were  so  many  worse  wounded  men  for  them  to  see 
to,  I  thought  I  had  better  engineer  him  over  to  the  hos- 
pital myself,  if  I  could.  As  he  couldn't  take  the  con- 
tents of  my  canteen,  inside,  I  gave  him  some  externally, 
bathing  his  head  and  washing  the  blood  off  his  face  where 
I  could  get  at  it.  That  revived  him  so  much  that  he  got 
onto  his  feet,  with  my  help,  and  by  resting  his  arm  on 
my  shoulders,  managed  to  walk,  stopping  often  to  rest, 
over  to  a  barn,  which  made  part  of  an  extempore  hospi- 
tal. It  was  pi'etty  dark  by  the  time  we  got  there,  and 
there  was  a  light  at  the  farther  end  of  the  bam  where  they 
were  taking  off  some  poor  wretch's  leg.  Rows  of  wounded 
men  lay  all  along  the  floor,  but  I  found  a  horse's  stall 
unoccupied,  with  plenty  of  hay  in  the  manger.  With 
that,  I  made  a  first-rate  bed  in  two  minutes,  and  it  did 
my  heart  good  to  hear  the  comfortable  sigh  my  colonel 
gave  as  he  lay  down  on  it. 

"  It  was  a  dismal  place  enough  to  be  sure,  full  of  groans, 
but  it  was  better  than  the  hard  ground  where  he  had  been 
lying  for  two  days,  alone. 

"  Just  as  I  was  wishing  I  could  give  him  some  nourish- 
ment before  I  left  him,  I  heard  a  woman's  voice  saying, 
'  Here 's  some  beef  tea  for  you,  my  friend.'  If  an  angel 
had  appeared  to  us,  we  couldn't  have  been  more  sur- 
prised nor  so  well  pleased,  for  I  never  heard  of  angels 
carrying  around  beef  tea.  There  stood  a  pale,  fragile- 
looking  lady,  with  a  lantern  in  one  hand  and  a  quart  bowl 
in  the  other.  I  told  her  I  was  afraid  he  couldn't  drink 
for  his  wound,  but  she  said  in  a  SAveet,  cheery  voice,  she 
was  sure  we  could  manage  it  some  way.     So  down  she 


2j-i  THEODORA:    A   HOME    STORY. 

weut  on  her  knees  beside  him,  and  while  I  held  the  lan- 
tern, she  put  the  spoon  between  his  lips  and  he  slowly- 
sipped  and  swallowed  three  or  four  spoonfuls,  which 
brightened  hiin  up  wonderfully.  It  was  '  a  sight  for  sair 
een,'  to  see  with  what  thankful  looks  he  followed  her  as 
she  went  out  of  that  stall  to  comfort  the  next  man,  I 
concluded  by  this  time,  that  it  wouldn't  do  to  hang 
around  one  sufferer  much  longer,  since  there  were  ten 
thousand  to  be  cared  for ;  so  I  went  back  to  the  field. 
But  I  should  really  like  to  know  who  that  man  was. 
Pain  is  a  selfish  thing,  and  the  man  who  looks  out  for  his 
horse  and  his  enemy  when  he  is  in  misery  himself,  is 
made  of  good  stuff. 

"  As  I  came  out  of  the  barn,  an  ambulance  was  stand- 
ing at  the  door,  and  the  driver  asked  me  to  tell  Mrs. 
Harris  he  was  ready  to  take  her  over  to  the  big  hospital. 
I  found  her  down  on  the  bam  floor  with  a  dying  boy's 
head  in  her  lap,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  face,  while  she 
soothed  him  in  motherly  tones — I  caught  the  words 
'  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley — '  I  felt  honored  to 
help  her  into  the  ambulance,  and  send  a  soldier's  blessing 
after  her.  You  have  no  idea  what  reverence  our  men 
feel  for  such  a  woman,  who  braves  all  these  revoltinof 
sights  and  endures  such  hardship  for  theii*  sake.  Those 
poor  fellows  followed  her  with  wistful  eyes  as  she  went 
away,  and  some  of  them  said,  '  Do  come  back  again, 
mother.'  She  told  them  she  was  going  to  be  ready  for 
them  at  the  larger  hospital. 

"  Send  this  to  the  girls,  please,  as  I  may  not  have  a 
chance  to  write  them  for  a  few  days.  Xo  knowing  how 
soon  we  shall  follow  the  friends  who  left  us  so  uncere- 
moniously Thursday  night. 

"  God  be  wi'  ye  all,  my  best  and  dearest ! 

«  Donald." 


NEWS    FROM    THE    FRONT.  265 

A  few  days  later  came  a  sliort  missive,  written  to 
iMiriam,  and  sent  to  the  other  absent  sister  bj  the  way  of 
home : 

"  Yon,  my  beloved  eldest  sister,  shall  have  the  honor  of 
hearing  first  the  annonncement  that  your  brother  Don 
holds  a  commission  as  First  Lieutenant  of  Co.  — ,  — th  Keg.. 
Vt.  Yols.  Pass  along  the  interesting  information  to  the 
rest.  Charge  them  not  to  run  wild  with  vain-glory.  I 
remember  when  we  read  '  Guy  Mannering '  how  amused 
you  were,  where  Dominie  Sampson  reads  the  Laird  his 
commission  as  justice  of  the  peace — '  The  king  has  been 
pleased  to  appoint ' — and  Ellengowan  bursts  out, 
*  Pleased !  Honest  gentleman !  I'm  sure  he  can't  be 
better  pleased  than  I  am.'  I  aj)preciate  his  feelings. 
Really,  though,  what  does  gratify  me  very  much  is,  that 
the  boys  of  the  company  seem  so  heartily  glad  of  it. 
The  cheers  they  gave  when  I  appeared  in  my  shoulder- 
straps  for  the  first  time,  made  the  whole  camp  ring. 

"  By  the  way,  I  had  to  go  over  to  the  hospital  this 
morning,  and  whom  should  I  see  there  but  my  Antietam 
colonel.  I  shoukln't  have  recognized  him  :  but  he  knew 
me,  and  called  to  me.  He  is  getting  on  famously,  and 
seemed  quite  unnecessarily  grateful  for  my  care  that 
night.  His  name  is  Rolf — from  Chicago.  Some  one  of 
you  girls  asked  if  he  was  'nice  looking.'  I  might  have 
known  you  wouldn't  feel  any  interest  in  him  if  he  was 
not.  When  a  man's  face  is  cut  open  to  the  cheek  bone 
is  not  the  most  favorable  occasion  that  could  be  desired 
for  pronouncing  on  his  beauty.  However,  I  took  an  ob- 
servation for  your  benefit  this  morning — so  far  as  the 
bandages  would  allow,  and  from  the  north-west  corner  of 
his  forehead,  one  grey  eye,  the  side  of  his  nose  that  is 
12 


266  THEODOEA  '.    A   HOME    STOKY. 

least  swollen,  one  end  of  bis  mouth,  and  his  figure  con- 
chant  under  a  blanket,  I  should  infer  that  he  was  a  well- 
made  man." 

With  this  was  enclosed  a  short  note  from  the  mother, 
in  which  slie  said  : 

"Mr.  Larabee  writes  his  wife  that  they  are  all  de- 
lighted with  Donald's  appointment ;  that  the  men  will  do 
anything  for  him." 

One  letter  from  her  brother,  which  Theodora  received 
about  that  time,  she  did  not  send  home,  but  kept,  to  read 
over  and  over  again  : 

"  My  Darlln'g  Sister  : — 

"  Your  letters  are  like  cold  water  to  the  thirstiest  kind 
of  a  soul.  Do  send  them  thicker  and  faster  and  more  of 
them.  I  believe  I  would  give  mv  new  commission  for  a 
talk  with  you  to-day.  If  you  could  only  sit  down  on  this 
log  beside  me,  this  bright  Sunday  morning,  wouldn't 
there  be  a  few  things  to  say !  I  don't  know  as  you 
would  listen  to  me,  at  first,  for  looking  about  you  at  tlie 
scene  that  would  be  so  novel  to  you,  though  now  so  com- 
monplace to  me.  A  thing's  commonness  does  not  spoil 
it,  though,  and  I  only  wish  I  could  show  my  enthusiastic 
beauty-lover  this  picturesque  camp  by  the  river  side.  I 
can  see  just  the  dear  old  smile  of  delight  that  would  steal 
over  your  face.  So  your  friends  are  not  much  pleased 
with  the  threatened  Emancipation  Proclamation.  We 
soldiers  must  beg  leave  to  differ  from  them.  It  cripples 
the  enemy  in  the  right  arm,  and,  besides,  most  of  us  feel 
as  if  the  war  was  to  be  on  the  right  basis  at  last,  and  hu- 
manity was  sure  to  gain  all  its  costs.     We  have  the  chance 


NEWS  FEOM  THE  FRONT.  267 

to  save  the  life  of  our  country,  and  at  the  same  time  clear 
her  of  a  dark  stain. 

"I  must  tell  you,  Theodora,  one  incident  of  that 
Antietani  battle-field  which  I  have  never  spoken  of  to  any 
one.  It  was  late,  and  the  clouds  were  hurrying  across  the 
sky,  squads  of  soldiers,  Sanitary  and  Christian  Commission 
men  were  going  over  the  field  with  lanterns,  trying  to  pick 
out  the  living  from  the  dead,  and  ambulances  were  mov- 
ing in  and  out  among  the  piles  of  mangled  men.  I  heard 
a  moaning  from  the  oak  grove  near  us,  and  left  my  party 
to  find  the  suiferer.  He  lay  staring  up  into  the  sky 
through  an  opening  in  the  branches.  As  I  bent  over  him, 
he  said,  '  No  chance  for  me  ;  I  b'lieve  my  back  is  broke.' 
I  raised  his  head  on  a  knapsack,  gave  him  some  drink, 
and  asked  what  I  could  do  for  him.  He  asked  me  to  take 
a  little  money  out  of  his  pocket  and  send  it  to  his  wife. 
'  There's  a  tintype  o'  her  in  the  wallet  there,  too ;  you  may 
as  well  send  that  back ;  I  don't  'zactly  hke  to  have  it 
pitched  into  the  dead  hole  'long  with  me,  when  the 
breath's  out  of  me.' 

"  I  laid  the  money  and  the  pictm-e  carefully  in  my 
diary,  and  wrote  the  address  as  well  as  I  could  in  the 
dark.  One  star  was  looking  down  at  the  man  through 
that  break  in  the  tree-tops.  '  Poor  girl !  she'll  have  a 
hard  row  to  hoe,'  he  said,  with  a  sigh,  as  I  finished  writ- 
ing. '  H  you  don't  mind  the  trouble,  I  wish  you'd  jest 
say  to  her  that  I  wish  I'd  done  better  by  her.  Tell  her  I 
always  thought  the  world  and  all  of  her,  if  I  was  a  leetle 
ha'sh  sometimes.  Tell  her  I  fought  hard  aU  day,  and  died 
like  a  man,  wiU  ye  ?  And  I  ain't  sorry  I  came.  The 
country's  worth  dyin'  for,  ain't  she,  sir  ? ' 

" '  Indeed  she  is,  and  she  won't  forget  the  brave  fellows 
that  Lave  fallen  for  her  on  this  field,'  I  answered.     '  ^q 


208  THEODOKA  I   A    HOME   STORY. 

you  one  of  tbeni  prayiu'  clia])s  ? '  be  asked.  I  suppose 
he  meant  one  of  the  Christian  Commission  men.  I  told 
him  I  was  a  soldier,  but  I  would  pray  for  him  if  he 
wanted  me  to. 

"  '  I  wouldn't  mind  dyin ','  said  the  poor  fellow,  '  if  I 
knew  I'd  go  to  the  good  place.  I  hain't  lived  as  I'd 
ought  t' ;  always  meant  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf,  and  now 
ray  chance  is  up ;'  and  he  heaved  a  great  sigh,  and  rolled 
his  head  hopelessly  on  one  side. 

"What  could  I  tell  him,  Theodora,  but  the  self-same 
gospel  my  father  taught  me  when  I  was  a  little  child — 
*  He  that  believetb  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  shall  be 
saved.'  The  Bible  way  of  saving  men  never  seemed  to 
me  so  simple  or  so  sure  as  it  did  with  the  hungry  e;^es  of 
that  dying  man  fastened  on  my  face,  while  I  tried  to  tell 
it,  kneeling  beside  him,  and  then  begged  the  Lord  Jesus 
to  receive  his  spirit. 

"  Many  things  are  growing  clearer  to  me.  '  In  the  still 
air  of  delightful  studies '  one  may  meditate  forever  with- 
out coming  to  a  positive  belief  ;  but  here,  one  is  practical- 
ly forced  to  a  decision  in  religious  matters.  Men  are 
challeno;ed  to  declare  themselves.  Good  and  evil  are 
shai-ply  defined.  I  should  wrong  all  I  hold  sacred,  if  I 
should  keep  myself  aloof  from  the  Christian  men  in  the 
bngade  who  are  working  nobly  to  win  their  comrades  to 
God. 

"  Tou  don't  know  what  solace  and  strength  your  sym- 
pathy has  been  to  me  all  along,  you  precious  girl !  God 
bless  you !  I  am  more  at  peace,  here  in  the  midst  of 
war,  than  I  have  been  for  a  year  and  a  half.  I  feel  the 
rock  under  my  feet  again.  Life  stretches  before  me  more 
awful,  but  more  glorious  than  ever  before.  Without  the 
key  Christianity  gives  it,  it  is  a 


NEWS  FKOM  THE  FRONT.  269 

"  'tale 
Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury, 
Signifying — nothing. ' 

"  I  am  not  back  just  where  I  was  at  first.  I  have  a 
ranch  broader  idea  of  the  '  diversities  of  operations ' 
which  the  '  same  spirit '  is  carrying  on,  the  world  around. 
I  am  not  confident  that  I  yet  have  the  truth  on  some 
points  of  doctrine  I  was  once  ready  to  demonstrate,  but 
I  believe  my  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God,  and  in  that 
sacred  hiding,  all  that  I  need  to  know  will  be  revealed 
to  me. 

"  What  a  long  letter  I  have  written !  You  must  keep 
it  to  read  by  installments  when  I  can't  get  a  chance 
to  write. 

"  Forever  and  a  day,  your 

"  Donald.'' 


XXII. 

CONFISCATION. 

FROM  the  beginning  of  the  war,  Theodora,  like 
thousands  of  other  patriotic  women,  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  visiting  the  hospitals  within  her  reach.  Her 
uncle's  family  hardly  came  to  town  without  bringing 
something  from  the  farm  for  the  sick  and  wounded 
soldiers,  and  often  they  left  with  her  a  basket  of  fruit  and 
handf uls  of  iiowers  from  the  garden,  which  it  was  a  great 
pleasure  for  her  to  distribute  as  she  went  through  the 
wards.  A  hotel  on  the  river-bank,  not  far  fi-om  the 
Torringtons,  had  been  appropriated  as  a  military  hospital, 
and  the  music-teacher  loved,  when  she  got  home  from 
giving  her  lessons,  to  make  up  a  tempting  basket  and  run 
down  there,  leaving  a  bunch  of  grapes  with  this  sufferer, 
two  or  three  pears  with  that,  a  fragrant  little  bouquet  with 
another  too  sick  to  enjoy  the  eatables;  saying  some 
words  of  good  cheer  with  each. 

It  was  not  long  before  wounded  soldiers  from  the  other 
side  were  brought  in. 

The  first  day  Theodora  saw  any  of  them  at  the  hospital, 
she  mentioned  it  to  Mrs.  Torrington,  and  she  immediately 
took  a  warm  interest  in  them.  She  had  never  entered 
the  hospital  before,  but  from  that  time  on,  when  Southern 
soldiers  were  there,  she  was  devoted  in  her  kind  attentions. 
The  two  often  went  together,  and  the  common  service  of 
humanity  drew  them  closely  together ;  yet,  in  doing  so, 
held  them  apart,  for  Mrs.  Torrington  had  never  an 
(370) 


CONFISCATION.  271 

expression  of  pitj,  nor  a  drop  of  cordial,  to  bestow  upon 
a  Union  soldier. 

One  day  Theodora  liad  just  come  from  the  bedside  of 
a  brave  man  wasted  almost  to  death  with  the  sufferings 
of  his  prison  life ;  her  eyelashes  were  still  wet  with  the 
feeling  his  patient  heroism  had  stiiTed ;  she  stopped  for 
Mrs.  Torrington,  who  was  just  taking  leave  of  one  of  her 
proteges.  He  was  a  bright-looking  young  soldier,  whose 
right  arm  had  been  shattered,  and  was  to  be  amputated 
in  the  morning. 

"  The  worst  of  it  is,  that  hand  can  never  draw  a  trigger 
again,"  he  was  saying  as  he  looked  pitifully  down  at  his 
useless  fingers. 

"  Brave  boy ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Torrington  warmly,  "  I 
only  wish  my  son  was  old  enough  to  take  your  place  in 
the  ranks ! "  Theodora  noticed  that  her  musical  tones 
were  louder  than  usual,  and  she  understood  it  as  she  saw 
the  glance  of  defiance  shot  with  them,  at  a  federal  officer 
standing  near,  one  whom  they  often  saw  at  the  hospital 
and  both  disliked.  Theodora  had  nicknamed  him  Chan- 
ticleer, he  had  "  such  a  strut  and  crow."  He  returned  the 
look  with  one  equally  unfriendly,  and  the  two  ladies 
went  away. 

They  foimd  Mr.  Torrington  in  thehbrary  looking  over 
the  evening  mail.  He  listened  with  interest  to  his  wife's 
glowing  descrifition  of  her  hew  hero,  and  then  went  back 
to  reading  his  Southern  newspaper. 

"  That  is  good  !  I  am  glad  somebody  has  the  courage 
to  say  it  out  squarely,"  he  remarked  as  he  finished  an 
editorial,  and  laid  the  paper  on  his  knee  with  a  nod  of 
satisfaction. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ?  Kead  it  out." 

He  read :  "  The  establishment  of  the  Confederacy  is  a 


272  THEODOEA  :    A    IIOilE   STORT. 

distinct  reaction  against  the  whole  course  of  the  mistaken 
civilization  of  the  age.  For  Lil)erty,  Equality,  Fraternity, 
we  hav^e  deliberately  substituted  Slavery,  Subordination, 
and  Government.  That  '  among  equals,  equality  is  right ; ' 
among  those  who  are  naturally  unequal,  e(j[uality  is  chaos ; 
that  there  are  slave  races,  bom  to  serve,  master  races, 
born  to  govern,  such  are  the  fundamental  principles 
which  we  inherit  from  the  ancient  world,  which  we  have 
lifted  up  in  the  face  of  a  perverse  generation  which  has 
forgotten  the  wisdom  of  its  fathers." 

"  No  person  of  sense  can  help  seeing  the  justice  of  that, 
I  am  sure,"'  responded  Mrs,  Torrington. 

"  "We  '11  not  say  that,"  replied  her  husband,  taking  oif 
his  eye-glasses,  and  looking  with  a  pleasant  smile  at 
Theodora.  "  I  suppose  our  Young  Yankee  friend  here, 
thinks  that  is  a  shocking  return  to  the  dark  ages,  and  she 
is  a-  person  of  sense  about  most  things." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Torrington,"  said  the  "  Young 
Yankee,"  with  an  answering  smile.  "  That  does  seem  to 
me  like  setting  back  the  world's  clock  two  or  three  hun- 
dred years.  I  would  have  a  government  so  free  that 
every  man  could  find  the  level  he  was  '  bom  '  for,  and  those 
who  are  '  naturally  unequal '  could  fit  into  the  inequalities 
of  life  according  to  Nature — not  arbitrary  rank.  Mrs. 
Torrington,  let  me  take  your  hat  and  shawl  upstairs  with 
mine,  so  that  you  needn't  go  up  before  tea ;  you  look 
tired." 

"  You  are  very  kind ;  I  do  dread  the  stairs,  but  my 
hair  is  falling  down  so  that  I  don't  see  but  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  go." 

"  Let  me  put  it  up  for  you."  As  she  stood  arranging 
the  braids,  she  noticed  Mr.  Torrington  opening  an  official- 
looking  document,  among  his  letters,  and  his  face  grow- 


CONFISCATTOK.  273 

ing  hard  and  stem,  as  if  suddenly  petrified,  while  he 
glanced  over  it.  "Without  a  word,  he  passed  it  to  his 
wife.  As  she  read  it,  her  face  flushed,  and  she  clinched 
her  white  fist.  Then  she  dashed  the  paper  to  the  floor. 
From  the  torrent  of  wi-ath  which  she  poured  out,  it  was 
easy  to  gather  that  the  offensive  communication  was  a 
warning  of  confiscation. 

As  quickly  as  possible,  Theodora  fastened  the  last  tress 
of  hair,  and  silently  passed  out  of  the  room.  That  was 
not  a  scene  for  any  spectator.  She  had  feared  this  very 
thing. 

Some  citizens  who  had  made  themselves  obnoxious  by 
giving  aid  and  comfort  to  secession,  had  already  been 
checked  by  arrest  or  the  confiscation  of  property.  Mr. 
Torrmgton  was  too  honest  and  too  proud  a  man  to  con- 
ceal his  opinions ;  still  he  was  naturally  reserved  and 
cautious,  and  he  abhorred  vulgar  notoriety.  He  had 
proved  his  attachment  to  the  cause  by  investing  a  large 
part  of  his  proj)ei-ty  in  Confederate  bonds,  but  none  of 
his  neighbors  would  have  known  it  if  his  wife  had  been 
as  prudent  as  liimseK.  For  her,  to  feel  and  to  speak  were 
all  one.  A  word  of  offence  to  the  South  would  set  her 
on  fire,  and  then  she  wo^ild  boast  of  their  sacrifices  in  its 
interest.  She  delighted  in  making  remarks  like  that  at 
the  hospital,  where  they  would  seem  most  defiant.  Again 
and  again,  in  her  angry  excitement,  she  had  flung  insults 
at  the  Union  soldiers,  which  one,  unfamiliar  with  the 
blood  in  her  veins,  would  have  said  it  was  hnpossible  for 
BO  high-bred  a  lady  to  offer  to  any  one. 

Theodora  Cameron  was  by  no  means  naturally  cautious. 

To  say  what  she  thought,  was  nearly  as  strong  an  impulse 

with  her  as  with  Mrs.  Torrington.     But  she  had  not  the 

same  fiery  temper  to  curb ;  and  her  parents  had  taught 

12* 


274  THEODORA  t    A   HOME    STORY. 

her  well  the  old  proverb :  "  You  may  tie  a  knot  with 
your  tongue  you  cannot  untie  Trith  your  teeth."  Cir- 
cumstances for  the  last  two  years  had  been  giving  her  an 
effectual  drill  in  self-control. 

She  loved  the  whole  family  of  the  Torringtons.  She 
saw  that  a  little  indiscretion  on  her  part  might  plunge 
them  into  serious  difficulty.  They  were  as  unguarded  in 
their  remarks  before  her  as  they  could  be  among  them- 
selves alone.  In  giving  her  lessons,  she  went  from  house 
to  house  among  famihes  violently  opposed  to  each  other 
on  the  Union  question.  She  felt,  herself,  as  intense  de- 
votion to  the  national  cause  as  any  of  them.  But  she 
resolved,  early  in  the  war,  that  she  would  not  repeat  any- 
thing she  heard  said  by  her  host  or  hostess  about  public 
affairs.  By  dint  of  great  vigilance  at  first,  and  help  of 
habit  afterwards,  she  had  kept  the  resolve,  and  in  doing 
so  had  gained  a  self-mastery  and  candor  of  judgment 
which  gave  her  power  in  after-years.  "  If  any  man 
offend  not  in  word,  the  same  is  a  perfect  man  and  able 
also  to  bridle  the  whole  body." 

So  now  the  crisis  had  come !  The  tea-bell  was  long 
delayed,  and  as  she  sat  in  her  room  watching  the  shadows 
creep  over  the  river,  she  wondered  what  they  would  do. 
She  was  certain  Mr.  Torrington  would  not  avoid  confisca- 
tion by  talcing  the  oath  of  allegiance.  She  supposed  he 
would  do  as  others  had  done,  take  his  family  away,  and 
leave  his  house,  as  it  was,  to  the  Federal  authorities.  In 
the  course  of  the  evening,  however,  she  could  see,  as  his 
wife  plied  him  with  questions,  and  expressed  her  indig- 
nation, that  he  was  divided  between  dread  of  coming  into 
collision  with  men  he  despised,  and  the  pride  which  said, 
"  Let  them  come  and  take  it,  I'll  not  budge."  Evident- 
ly, he  was  loth  to  believe  they  would  actually  interfere 


CONFISCATION.  275 

with  a  man  of  liis  cliaracter  and  standing.  Caro  was 
frightened,  and  urged  thej  should  go.  Aleck  scorned 
the  idea,  and  just  wished  a  Confederate  army  would 
march  up  that  way,  and  give  those  impudent,  woolly- 
headed  Republicans  a  lesson  !  As  they  were  talking, 
there  came  a  crash  against  the  parlor  windows  as  of  hf  ty 
egg-shells  breaking  at  once,  and  the  sound  of  something 
trickling  down  on  the  outside.  Then  an  awful  groan 
from  many  voices.  Mobbed  !  Mr.  Torrington's  face  was 
white,  as  his  eyes  met  his  wife's  at  the  sound,  and  he 
said,  "  This  decides  it ;  I  am  not  to  be  driven  out  of  my 
home  by  a  dirty  mob." 

Theodora  felt  consumed  with  shame.  Why  need  a 
noble  cause  be  degraded  by  such  a  vile  following  as  that 
rabble !  After  a  few  minutes  of  groaning  and  insolent 
cries,  they  passed  on  to  pay  their  respects  at  other  houses 
whose  masters  had  been  offensive  as  secession-sjmipa- 
thizers.  Caro  was  crying,  and  clinging  to  Theodora  in 
fright.  Mrs.  Torrington  was  wild  with  nervousness  and 
excitement.  She  blamed  the  most  respectable  and  con- 
cientious  Unionists  in  the  city,  as  if  they  personally  had 
been  throwing  rotten  eggs  at  the  windows. 

"  Aren't  you  proud  of  your  friends.  Miss  Dora  ?"  she 
said,  turning  suddenly  in  her  walk  up  and  down  the 
room. 

"  The  rabble  don't  much  care  which  side  they  are  on, 
so  they  can  do  mischief,"  she  answered,  putting  aside  the 
taunt.  She  could  not  help  thinldng  that  the  lady's  own 
passionate  partisanship  only  needed  to  be  transferred  to 
vidgar  minds  to  work  up  the  maddest  of  riots. 

The  next  day  Mrs.  Torrington  was  sick  with  a  distract- 
ing headache,  it  seemed  as  if  a  fever  might  be  coming  on, 
and  Theodora  put  by  some  of  her  lessons  and  devoted 


276  THEODORA  !    A    HOME   STOET. 

herself  to  lier.  She  moved  softly  about  the  darkened 
room,  ministering  so  skillfully  and  tenderly  to  the  sufferer 
that,  by  evening,  she  turned  her  head  on  her  pillow  with 
a  long  sigh,  opened  her  eyes  languidly,  and  said  the  worst 
of  it  was  over.  She  slept  on  a  lounge  in  the  room,  and 
was  often  up  in  the  night  soothing  and  cooling  the  fever- 
ish pain.  It  was  sweet  to  her  in  the  morning,  as  slie  was 
bathing  her  patient,  to  have  her  say,  with  a  grateful  look : 

"  What  a  comf oi't  you  are !  " 

A  few  days  later,  came  a  Saturday  which  she  had 
promised  to  spend  at  her  uncle's.  Mrs.  Ton-ington  was 
well  again,  and  all  went  on  as  usual,  except  that  they 
were  looking  to  see  what  each  day  would  bring  forth. 

"  The  Black  Prince  "  had  been  kindly  placed  at  Theo- 
dora's service,  soon  after  she  came,  for  every  Saturday 
that  she  chose  to  go  to  Esmadura,  and  Mr.  Torrington 
seemed  happy  to  have  her  avail  herself  of  it.  He  had  a 
fancy  that  it  did  the  creatm-e  good  to  spend  a  day  fre- 
quently in  the  fi'esh  air  and  green  pastures  on  the  hills. 

It  was  delicious  to  get  out  of  the  smoky  town,  out  of 
the  home  atmosphere  of  disquiet,  into  the  freshness  and 
freedom  of  the  open  country — the  peace  and  sympathy 
of  her  uncle's  house. 

Mr.  Bradley  took  the  trouble  of  his  old  friend  very 
much  to  heart.  "  It  is  his  own  fault,"  he  said.  "  A  man 
who  won't  own  allegiance  to  his  own  goveniuieut  de- 
serves to  be  treated  like  an  alien  enemy ;  but  tell  Tor- 
rington my  house  is  open  to  him  and  his,  day  and  night, 
whenever  I  can  serve  him." 

"  AVhy,  husband,"  said  Mi-s.  Bradley,  "  the  same  house 
wouldn't  hold  you  and  Mrs.  Torrington  half  an  hour." 

"  If  she  was  my  guest,  it  would,"  he  answered  ;  and 
Theodora  behoved  he  would  have  made  it  good. 


C0NTI3CATI.:iN.  277 

"I  think  you' had  better  just  stay  with  us,"  said  her 
Annt  Margaret.  *'  Trouble  is  coining,  and  it  will  be  very 
disagreeable  to  be  there.  "Why  not  let  us  just  send  back 
the  horse,  and  say  that  I  wanted  to  keep  you  a  few 
days?" 

"  I  think  I'd  better  go,  auntie.  I  don't  want  to  de- 
sert them,  and  it  is  possible  I  can  be  of  some  service  to 
them." 

She  found  herself  too  tired  to  go  to  church  that  Sun- 
day. In  the  morning,  she  lay  on  the  bed  in  the  large, 
pleasant  guest-chamber,  and  by  tui'ns  read  the  Bible  and 
thought,  while  her  eyes  rested  on  the  heavy  fringes  of  a 
Norway  spruce,  in  contrast  with  the  cedar-boughs  next  it. 
She  loved  these  trees  in  her  uncle's  yard,  because  they 
had  a  f ragi-ance  of  New  England  woods.  She  seemed  to 
go  home  again  and  gather  strength  for  whatever  might  be 
coming.  She  strengthened  herself  with  the  First  Epistle 
of  Peter,  and  felt  ready  for  whatever  might  come. 

They  all  came  out  to  the  horse-block  to  see  her  off 
the  next  morning,  and  her  uncle  repeated  his  message  to 
Mr.  Torrington  :  "  Tell  him  my  latch-string  is  always  out 
for  them  to  come  and  stay  as  long  as  they  please." 

As  she  rode  off,  they  shouted  after  her :  "  Expect  to 
see  you  back  soon.  Come  home  if  you  have  any  trouble. 
Don't  wait  to  be  taken  up  for  a  vagrant." 

As  she  rode  down  the  hill,  the  morning  mists  were 
creeping  up  the  valleys  below  her  and  blending  with  the 
smoky  haze  of  the  wakening  city.  Together  they  threw 
a  gauzy  veil  over  the  scene  which  enhanced  its  beauty. 
By  the  time  she  reached  the  'pike,  the  air  was  clear. 
The  Black  Prince  cantered  gaily  on  towards  home,  and 
she  talked  to  him  about  aU  the  charming  times  they  had 
had  together,  from  the  time  Di  Yemon  used  to  go  neck 


278  THEODORA  !    A   HOME    STORY. 

to  neck  with  him,  up  to  this  present.  He  scemecl  to  tate 
it  all  in,  and  say,  "  You  shall  have  the  best  ride  yet,  this 
morning."  Up  the  long,  steep  hill,  with  its  stone  para- 
pet on  one  side,  which  leads  into  the  city,  he  went,  with 
his  quick,  elastic  walk,  then  down  a  descent,  around  a 
corner,  and  dashed  up  to  his  own  door  in  fine  style,  stop- 
ping exactly  at  the  stepping-stone,  and  announcing  him- 
self with  a  proud  snort.  At  that  moment,  a  soldier  laid 
his  hand  on  the  Black  Prince's  bridle,  and  his  rider  saw 
another  standing  in  the  door  of  the  house. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  she  asked,  as  she  sprang 
from  the  saddle, 

"  I  suppose  it  means,  for  one  thing,  that  this  fine  ani- 
mal belongs  to  Uncle  Sam." 

"  You  are  not  going  to  take  him  right  away  ?  '' 

"  As  soon  as  I  get  orders,"  answered  the  man,  nodding 
towards  the  house. 

She  hurried  in.  The  parlor,  she  saw  in  passing,  was 
occupied  by  a  soldier  lolling  in  the  best  velvet  easy  chair, 
with  one  leg  swinging  over  the  arm  of  it. 

She  tapped  at  the  library-door,  and  it  swung  open  at 
her  touch.  Mr.  Torrington,  with  an  expression  of 
haughty  composure  on  his  face,  was  at  the  table,  pick- 
ing up  some  papers,  while  an  orderly  stood  by,  looking 
on. 

"  Can  I  speak  with  you  a  moment.  Mi-.  Torrington  ? '' 
she  said,  going  up  to  him. 

"If  this  gentleman  can  have  the  pleasure  of  listening," 
he  replied,  with  sarcastic  politeness. 

The  orderly  was  a  pleasant-looking  young  man,  who 
evidently  did  not  like  his  errand.  He  folded  his  arms, 
and  walked  to  the  window,  where  he  stood  with  his  back 
to  them. 


CONFISCATION.  279 

'' Ifust  tliey  take  the  Black  Prince?"  asked Tlieocl era, 
in  a  low,  anxious  voice. 

"They  mnst  take  whatever  they  please,"  he  answered 
aloud,  growing  even  paler  than  before. 

"  One  thing  more,"  said  Theodora.  "  I  had  a  message 
for  you.  Uncle  Bradley  chai'ged  me  to  tell  you  that  his 
latch-string  was  out  for  you  and  yours,  day  and  night, 
and  as  long  as  you  please."  She  spoke  warmly,  with  her 
eyes  raised  to  his,  and  tears  gathering  in  them.  The  red 
flushed  around  his  eyes  and  mouth,  but  he  waited  a  mo- 
ment, till  he  could  speak  without  betraying  emotion,  be- 
fore answering : 

"  Your  uncle  is  a  gentleman,  and  a  tnie  friend.  Tell 
him  I  shall  never  forget  his  kindness ;  but  I  shall  not  be 
obliged  to  trespass  upon  it.  I  am  sorry.  Miss  Dora,  that 
your  home  here  is  disturbed ;  but  I  hope  you  may  find  a 
pleasanter  one  elsewhere,"  he  added,  with  his  usual  dig- 
nified politeness.  "  I  will  remit  whatever  is  due  you,  if 
you  will  leave  the  address  with  me." 

"  Don't  speak  of  it,  Mr.  Torrington ;  it  is  nothing," 
she  said,  hurt  that  he  should  suppose  she  could  think  of 
it  at  such  a  time.  She  left  the  room,  and  went  upstairs, 
where  she  heard  Mrs.  Torrington's  voice.  To  her  dis- 
may, she  saw  the  Chanticleer  standing  beside  her.  Why 
need  it  be  he,  to  exasperate  the  offence  !  Even  then  she 
could  not  help  thinking  how  splendidly  the  lady  looked. 
She  was  in  a  morning-robe  of  rich  cashmere.  She  had 
been  interrupted  at  the  toilet,  and  her  black  hair  was 
pushed  back  and  hanging  loosely  about  her  face.  Her 
clieeks  were  flushed,  and  her  eyes  flashing.  Evidently, 
she  had  been  giving  the  Chanticleer  "a  piece  of  her 
mind " ;  and  he,  as  if  to  show  himself  unabashed  by  it, 
wore  a  more  pompous  air  than  ever.     They  were  walking 


280  TnEODORA  :  a  iiomk  story. 

along  the  hall  from  the  door  of  Mrs.  Torriiigtori's  room 
to  Miss  Cameron's,  which  the  officer,  with  a  sliglit  tap, 
thi'ew  open.  He  gave  a  low  whistle  as  he  glanced  around 
the  room. 

"  How  is  this  ?     United  States  flag !     Honest  Abe ! " 

Upon  this,  Caro,  who,  as  it  appeared,  was  crouched  on 
an  ottoman  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room,  with  the 
twins  beside  her,  straightened  herself  up  and  said,  "  This 
is  Miss  Cameron's  room ;  and  she  is  a  good  Unionist ; 
and  you  oughtn't  to  touch  her  things,  whatever  you  do." 

He  turned,  and  saw  Theodora,  whom  Mrs.  Torrington, 
in  her  excitement,  had  not  noticed,  standing  almost  at 
her  elbow.     He  looked  at  her  steadily. 

"  Isn't  this  the  young  lady  who  visits  our  hospital  so 
much  ? '' 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  said  Caro,  coming  forward.  "  That  is 
Miss  Cameron,  and  she  is  a  Yennonter,  and  she  has  two 
brothers  in  your  a^l•my,  and  she  is  all  the  time  doing 
something  for  your  soldiers." 

Chanticleer  bowed  low  to  Miss  Cameron. 

"  "We  respect  that  flag,''  said  he,  with  a  grand  wave 
towards  it.  "  I  will  endeavor  to  see  that  this  room  is  not 
disturbed." 

He  passed  on  to  another  apartment ;  but  Mrs.  Torring- 
ton turned  flercely  upon  Theodora.  "  So,  that  is  the 
meaning  of  youi*  signal !  I  was  a  fool  to  suppose  I  could 
take  a  Yankee  into  my  house  without  flnding  her  a 
traitor !  I  only  wish  I  had  torn  down  your  hateful  flag, 
as  I  had  a  notion  to,  when  I  first  saw  it  there.  I  might 
have  suspicioned  the  whole  thing !  Was  it  not  enough," 
she  added,  in  a  shai-per  tone,  "  to  post  your  signals  for 
your  friends,  without  setting  my  daughter  to  watch  over 
your  precious  eftects  \ " 


CONFISCATION.  281 

«  Mother ! " 

"  Mrs.  Torrington  !  " 

From  the  two  mouths  burst  the  same  tone  of  reproach. 
Theodora  said  nothing  more.  The  accusation  was  too 
absurd.  But  Caro  stood  before  her  mother,  looking  hke 
a  miniature  of  herself,  and  repelled  her  insinuations 
hotly. 

"  "Why,  Mother  Tonington !  you  know  it  is  no  such 
thing.  It  is  just  a  flag  Miss  Dora's  brothers  and  sisters 
gave  her  for  a  birth-day  pi-esent,  and  she  put  it  up  the 
very  evening  she  came  back.  Indeed,  she  never  said  one 
word  to  me  about  coming  in  here.  I  just  came  because  I 
was  that  frightened  I  didn't  know  any  place  else  to  go. 
I  felt  safer  in  the  room  with  the  flag ;  so  I  took  Pinky- 
Winky  in  here  with  me.  Indeed,  mamma,  you  have  no 
right  to  speak  so  to  her !  " 

"  Careful,  Caro  !  careful  I "  said  Theodora,  almost  in  a 
whisper. 

That  seemed  to  exasperate  Mrs.  Torrington  the  more. 

"  Teach  her  how  to  treat  her  mother,  will  you,  before 
my  very  face.  I  shall  be  able  to  dispense  with  your  aid 
in  the  instruction  of  my  cliildren  hereafter.  Whatever 
they  know,  they  shall  know  no  more  of  treacherous 
Yankees." 

She  swept  off,  with  the  air  of  an  incensed  Duchess  ;  the 
twins  trotting  after  her,  and  breaking  the  majesty  of  her 
movements  by  hanging  to  her  skirts  and  making  her  trip 
slightly.  She  went  into  her  own  chamber,  slammed  the 
door,  and  a  moment  after  was  heard  by  those  witliout  in 
hysterical  sobs. 

Aunt  Phillis  came  up  the  stairs,  wiping  her  eyes  on  her 
apron,  saying : 

"  Where  be  them  blessed  babies  ?    Where's  Missis ! " 


282  TIIEODfiKA  :    A   HOME    STORY. 

She  went  into  tlie  room,  but  came  ont  again  in  a 
moment,  the  ends  of  the  red  bandanna  knotted  around 
her  head,  quivering  with  agitation. 

"  What  ever  be  we  going  to  do  !  Massa  sajs  for  us  all 
to  be  ready  for  to  go  at  one  o'clock.  1  tell  him  we 
couldn't  anj  ways  get  to  go  so  quick,  but  he  said  the  car- 
riage would  be  to  the  door  and  go  we  must,  ready  or  not 
ready.  Now,  yere's  Missis  on  the  bed,  cryin'  fit  to  kill, 
so  I  never  let  on  what  1  came  to  tell  her.  She  can't  do 
nothin',  poor  dear ;  but  I  'low  what  Massa  says  has  got  to 
be  did,  sonieJiowr 

Theodora  thought  so  too.  Mr.  Torrington  always 
knew  what  he  was  about.  The  furniture  was  confiscated 
with  the  house,  but  the  ward-robe  of  the  whole  family 
was  to  be  packed  and  ready  to  go  by  one  o'clock.  It  was 
almost  ten  already.     Plenty  of  work  for  somebody ! 

"  Deary  me  ! "  cried  Aunt  Phillis,  throwing  up  her 
hands  and  heaving  a  tremendous  sigh  from  her  mountain- 
ous bosom.  "  1  don't  know  which  way  to  run,  no  more 
than  a  chicken  with  its  head  cut  off  ! " 

"  I'll  tell  you,  Aunt  Phillis  ;  have  Caesar  bring  all  the 
trunks  into  the  nursery.  You  gather  up  the  clothes  and 
bring  them  there.  Yiolet  can  help  you.  Arid  I  will  do 
the  packing.  Caro,  you  can  mind  your  mother  and  the 
babies,  can't  you '{ " 

"  I  will  do  the  best  I  can,  Miss  Dora,"  answered  Caro. 

"  First,  you  had  better  go  down  and  order  Chloe  to 
have  dinner  an  hour  earlier  than  usual — a  good,  hot 
dinner." 

"  Xow,  a'n't  you  a  blessin'  from  the  Lord,  Honey ! " 
exclaimed  Aunt  Phillis.  "  I  feel  like  you  had  set  my 
head  on  my  shoulders  again.     Mebbe  we  can  do  it." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  nursery  was  a  labyiinth  of  trunks 


CONFISCATION.  283 

and  heaps  of  clotlies.  Tlieodora  stood  in  the  midst,  work- 
ing hard  and  fast  to  bring  order  out  of  chaos.  It  sud- 
denly occurred  to  her  that  the  squad  on  guard  would  be 
wanting  their  dinner  at  the  house,  and  there  would  be  a 
new  embarrassment  in  the  hurry  of  getting  off.  She  went 
to  find  Chanticleer ;  he  was  stretched  on  the  sofa  in  the 
parlor,  but  started  up  at  her  entrance. 

"  Would  two  o'clock  be  too  late  a  dinner-hour  to-day 
for  you,  sir  ? "  she  asked,  as  politely  as  possible. 

"  Oh,  no,  madam ;  suit  your  own  convenience,  cer- 
tainly." 

"And  the  guard  ? " 

"  No  hurry  about  them.  They  are  used  to  eating  all 
hours,  or  going  without,  as  it  happens." 

"  They  will  not  go  without,  of  course."  She  knew 
soldiers  could  be  trusted  for  that !  "  You  shall  all  have 
a  good  dinner ;  but  the  family  leave  at  one  o'clock,  and 
there  is  a  great  deal  to  be  done  first.  So  it  will  be  all 
the  better  if  you  wait." 

"  Certainly,  Miss,  certainly ;  let  me  see,"  coming  close 
to  her  and  speaking  low,  "  could  you  tell  me  where  Mr. 
Torrington  keeps  his  wines  ?  I  don't  see  any  wine- 
cellar." 

"  He  doesn't  keep  any,  sir.  He  is  a  temperance  man," 
she  said,  pointedly. 

He  looked  annoyed  that  she  did  not  answer  in  an 
undertone,  as  he  had  spoken.  His  purple  complexion 
took  a  darker  tinge.  She  thought,  as  she  went  out,  if  she 
had  offended  him,  the  family  would  suffer  for  it ;  so  she 
held  down  her  antipathy,  and  went  back  to  lay  two  or 
three  magazines  on  the  table,  remarking  blandly :  "  I 
hope  you  will  find  something  to  amuse  you  while  you 
wait." 


284  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STOET. 

He  nodded,  but  was  evidently  in  a  state  of  disappoint- 
ment. 

She  went  Lack  to  the  nnrsery,  but  as  she  'A'ent  up  the 
stairs,  saw  the  orderly  passing  through  the  hall.  She 
leaned  over  the  balustrade  to  speak  to  him. 

"  This  is  a  pretty  hard  thing  for  a  family.  Ton  soldiers 
will  make  it  as  easy  as  you  can  for  them,  won't  you  ? " 

"  Indeed  we  will  that,"  said  the  young  man,  with  feel- 
ing. "  I  just  thought  how  I  should  feel  if  my  father  was 
in  that  old  gentleman's  place,  till  1  could  stand  it  no 
longer  in  there  with  him,"  nodding  towards  the  library. 
"  If  there  is  anything  I  can  do  to  help,  just  let  me  know." 

Mrs.  Torrington  passed  the  morning  in  a  state  of  ex- 
citement bordering  on  delirium.  At  one  time,  as  Theo- 
dora was  going  through  the  hall,  she  heard  the  crash  of 
glass  in  her  room  and  then  Mr.  Torrington's  tones  in  ex- 
postulation. A  glance  through  the  open  door  showed 
that  a  beautiful  toilet  set,  which  belonged  on  the  bureau, 
had  been  dashed  to  atoms  on  the  floor.  "  I  would  break 
everything  in  the  house  if  I  could.  I  wish  I  could  set 
the  house  on  fire ! "  she  was  saying.  "  To  have  these 
wretched  Yankees  wiping  their  feet  on  my  lace  curtains 
and  looking  at  their  ugly  faces  in  my  mirroi*s  ! "  There 
came  another  crash — she  had  struck  a  cm-lino:-stick  into 
the  mirror. 

■'  India ! "  exclaimed  h^r  husband,  in  a  peremptory 
tone.  "  Eem  ember  you  are  a  lady.  "We  shall  have  the 
whole  squad  in  here  to  look  after  the  property." 

In  fact,  the  sound  had  brought  Chanticleer  out  of  the 
parlor,  on  to  the  stairs.  Theodora  hastened  down  to 
head  him  off.  She  persuaded  him  to  go  Ijack,  telling 
him  Mr.  Torrington  would  see  to  it  that  no  further  dam- 
age was  done. 


CONFISCATION.  285 

"  Thej  had  better  not  go  to  smasliing  up  tliiugs,"  said 
he,  shaking  his  head  ominously.  "  If  they  behave  them- 
selves, everything  will  go  nice  and  smooth  ;  but  if  they 
go  to  acting  cantankerous,  they  will  soon  find  the  United 
States  Government  is  too  much  for  'em." 

"  There  will  be  no  more  trouble,  I  assure  you,"  said 
Theodora,  "  Mrs.  Torrington  is  hardly  herself,  this 
morning,  but  her  husband  will  see  that  nothing  of  this 
kind  happens  again." 

"  He  'd  better  ;  you  tell  him  he  'd  better  ;  'cause  if  he 
can't  take  care  of  her,  I  ccm,^''  he  said,  in  a  threatening 
tone.  "  She  has  been  sassy  enough  to  United  States  offi- 
cers, and  I'd  jest  like  to  show  her  the  United  States 
Guv'munt  ain't  to  be  trifled  with.'' 

"  Indeed,  she  is  learning  that  to  her  cost,"  said  Theo- 
dora, trembling  lest  he  should  add  some  insult  to  the 
miseries  of  the  day.  "  Yictors  can  afford  to  be  magnan- 
imous," throwing  a  sop  to  his  pride.  "  I  am  sure,  sir, 
you  are  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  add  anything  to  the 
humiliation  of  this  day." 

Soothed  by  the  touch  of  flattery,  he  sank  back  into  an 
embroidered  chair  and  looked  placable,  so  that  she  ven- 
tured to  leave  him.  Her  conscience  smote  her  mildly  as 
she  went  back  to  her  work,  for  she  did  not  think  he  was 
"  too  much  of  a  gentleman  "  to  do  any  insolent  thing  he 
could  think  of  to  abase  the  proud  lady  who  had  affronted 
him  more  than  once. 

"  Miss  Dora,  look  here  a  minute,"  said  Caro,  putting 
her  head  into  the  nursery. 

"  I  am  in  a  terrible  hurry,  dear." 

"  Just  a  minute,  quick,  please." 

She  went  with  her  and  looked  over  the  balustrade  into 
the  lower  hall.      Piuky-Wiuky   had   been   di-essed   for 


286  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STORY. 

the  journey,  and  turned  loose  to  take  care  of  themselves 
till  the  time  came.  Pinky  was  sitting  on  the  lowest  stair 
holding  up  before  her  "  John  Edward,"  her  knit  doll, 
talking  to  him. 

"  Yon  are  a  yebel,  John  Ed'ard,  and  you  will  have  to 
go  to  Yichmond.  You  can't  stay  in  this  house  another 
single  minute,  and  you  can't  caway  'way  your  hobby- 
horse, nor  your  bedstead,  nor  noffin  at  all.  But  don't 
you  never  mind.  Don't  you  cwy  one  singul  bit ;  'cause 
you  are  a  good  true  yebel,  John  Ed'ard." 

While  she  was  making  these  last  remarks  in  a  consolatory 
tone,  they  saw  Winky  trotting  along  the  hall  tugging  her 
great  yellow  cat.  His  straggles  to  get  into  some  tolerable 
position  had  pushed  her  little  hat  on  one  side.  She  stop- 
ped before  the  orderly,  who  was  leaning  against  the  parlor 
door-jpost,  laughing  to  hear  Pinky  talk  to  her  doll. 

"  Ith  my  kitty — ti — fi — fithticate  ?"  she  asked,  looking 
earnestly  into  his  face. 

He  went  down  on  one  knee  and  put  his  anns  around 
her,  kitty  included. 

"  I  don't  much  believe  Uncle  Sam  will  meddle  with 
your  pussy-cat.     Do  you  want  to  take  him  with  you  ?  " 

"  Yeth  ;  he  wanth  to  go,  Billy  dosth.  He  can  sit  right 
on  the  seat  in  the  earth.  Aleck  said  he  couldn't  go, 
cauth  he  wath  fithticated." 

"  Ain't  you  a  jolly  pair  of  little  girls,  though !  Will 
you  kiss  me  ? " 

She  considered  the  subject  a  minute,  looking  straight 
into  his  pleasant  face,  then  she  put  a  sweet  httle  kiss 
right  under  his  mustache.  Whereupon  he  took  her  up 
in  his  arms  and  promenaded  the  hall  with  her  till  the 
carnage  came. 

Theodora  was  on  the  floor  before  the  fourth  trunk, 


CONFISCATION.  287 

when  Caesar  swung  the  door  open  and  announced  :  "  The 
'spress  wagon  have  come  for  the  baggage,  Miss  Dora." 

"  Yerj  well ;  ask  Mr.  Torrington  to  come  here  a 
mmute,  will  you  1" 

By  the  time  he  came,  she  had  crowded  the  last  thing 
into  the  trunk  and  was  locking  it. 

She  handed  him  the  bunch  of  keys,  saying,  "  I  think, 
Mr.  Torring-ton,  everything  is  in  these  four  trunks  that 
will  be  needed  for  several  weeks.  That  pile  of  winter 
clothing  I  can  pack  this  afternoon,  and  have  it  stored  or 
sent  to  you,  as  you  think  best." 

He  thought  a  moment,  then  answered,  "I  will  have 
everything  sent.  I  will  leave  nothing  of  mine  in  this 
contemptible  town.  I  will  not  trouble  you  to  attend  to 
it,  however.     I  will  leave  the  address  with  Mr.  Maynard." 

"  He  is  unwilling  to  trust  me  with  their  address,"  she 
thought,  bitterly.  "  Would  you  like  me  to  pack  them 
before  I  go  ?     Or  will  the  Maynards  attend  to  it  ?" 

"  Why — if  it  is  not  too  much  trouble,  I  should  be 
glad  to  have  you  overlook  it.  Yiolet  could  do  it,  I  sup- 
pose. Who  packed  all  these  ?  Not  you  ?"  He  seemed 
suddenly  struck  with  the  fact  that  she  looked  tired  and 
warm.     "  I  supposed  Phillis  or  Violet  was  doing  it." 

"  Phillis  picked  up  the  things,  but  she  would  hardly 
know  how  to  do  the  packing — at  least  in  so  short  a  time. 
Violet  is  no  help  to  speak  of." 

The  expressman  was  taking  away  the  luggage,  and  Mr. 
Torrington  hm-ried  off  to  give  him  directions. 

Theodora  ran  to  her  room  to  wash  her  hands  and 
bathe  her  burning  face.  She  was  trembling  with  weari- 
ness and  excitement.  Caro  followed  her  and  threw  her- 
self on  her  neck  in  a  passionate  fit  of  crying. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Dora,  I  cannot  leave  you  !     I  can't  live 


Zoo  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

witliout  you.  I  never  can  be  good  away  from  yon.  You 
don't  know — "  the  rest  of  liei  words  were  washed  away 
in  a  rain-storm  of  tears. 

Theodora  cried  with  her,  kissed  her  again  and  again, 
stroked  her  hair,  and  held  her  close. 

"  If  I  could  know  yon  had  begun  to  love  the  Saviour, 
darling,  1  could  bear  it  better,"  she  said,  in  an  unsteady 
voice. 

"  Indeed,  I  do  believe  I  was  just  beginning.  But 
what  can  I  do  without  von !  I  shall  ffo  all  wroni):  and 
get  to  be  that  cross  and  hateful  He  will  have  to  give  me 
up."  i^other  burst  of  weeping,  but  the  heavy  heart  of 
her  friend  threw  ofi  a  great  weight.  For  this  she  had 
been  praying  and  trying  for  two  years — to  win  Caro  to 
Christ. 

"  No,  indeed,  dear.  If  you  are  joined  to  Him  you 
will  do  very  well  without  me.  Oh,  I  shall  feel  so  safe 
and  happy  to  know  you  are  clinging  to  him.  '  Whatso- 
ever He  saith  tcnto  you,  do  it.'  '' 

Aleck  knocked  at  the  door.  "Come,  Caro,  mamma 
says  for  you  to  come  this  minute.  The  carriage  is  here. 
Good-bye,  Miss  Dora.  We  will  keep  up  our  duets  so  as 
to  play  them  to  you  when  you  come  down  to  visit  us  in 
the  Confederate  States  of  America." 

"  Good-bye,  Aleck.  You  and  Caro  must  come  and  see 
me  in  the  Green  Mountain  State  when  the  Heljellion  is 
over,  and  I  will  play  you  The  Star  Spangled  Banner 
with  variations." 

"  You  will  write  to  me,  Caro  ?"  said  Theodora,  as  they 
went  down  the  stairs  with  their  arms  around  each  other. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  shall  be  writing  to  you  all  the  time,  I 
expect.'' 

As  she  said  it,  they  reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  where 


CONFISCATION.  289 

her  mother  was  standing.  She  turned  a  look  of  dis- 
pleasure on  Caro  as  she  heard  the  words — shot  a  quick 
glance  of  cold  anger  at  Theodora,  drew  her  veil  closely 
over  her  face,  and  went  out,  taking  her  husband's  ann. 

Not  even  a  good-bye  ! 

"  She  won't  feel  so  long,"  whispered  Caro,  as  she 
Buatched  a  last  kiss  and  ran  after  her. 

Mr.  Torrington  stepped  back,  after  placing  his  wife  in 
the  ean-iage,  and  shook  hands,  saying : 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  for  your  fidelity  and  kindness 
to  my  children,  Miss  Dora.     Good-bye." 

"  Good-bye,  Honey,"  said  Aunt  Phillis,  when  he  had 
gone  out.  "  You's  been  a  mighty  great  helj)  in  this  yere 
house  to-day.  The  good  Lord  knows  it,  whether  any  per- 
son else  does  or  not." 

"  God  bless  you,  Aunt  Phillis !  Good-bye,  precious  little 
Pinky." 

The  imrse  had  her  by  the  hand ;  she  took  Theodora's 
tearful  kisses  with  great  composure,  and  held  up  her  fa- 
mous old  doll. 

"  You  may  kiss  John  Ed'ard,  'cause  he's  going  'way  off, 
and  he  a'n't  coming  back  here  any  more." 

"Tell  Miss  Dora  what  there  would  be  if  we  should 
stay,"  said  Aleck,  who  had  come  back  to  hurry  them. 

*'  There  would  be  a  yow,  a  yumpus,  and  a  yiot !  " 

"Where  is  Wiiiky ?     I  haven't  bid  her  good-bye." 

"  There ;  see «  " 

She  was  still  in  the  arms  of  the  soldier,  the  sleeve  of 
her  little  white  sack  cuddled  affectionately  arou-id  the 
neck  of  the  blue  uniform.  They  were  waiting  in  the 
yard  for  the  baskets,  satchels,  and  shawls  to  be  stowed 
away  in  the  carriage. 

The  little  lady  bent  down  from  her  high  estate  to  kiss 
IB 


290  theodoea:  a  home  stokt. 

Theodora  good-bye,  and  seeing  the  tears  on  her  cheeks, 
said,  as  she  laid  her  head  down  again  on  the  orderly's 
shoulder  : 

"Don't  ye  ewy,  Mith  Dowa  ;  Winky  lovth  you." 
That  was  a  comfort ;  but  how  soon  they  would  forget 
her — these  httle  things  ! 

At  last  all  were  in — the  family  and  the  nurse  Ccesar 
got  np  with  the  coachman  to  see  them  oif.  Chloe  and 
Yiolet  were  crying  under  a  tree  in  the  yard.  Theodora 
leaned  on  the  gate  ;  the  ordei'ly  stood  with  his  cap  off ;  his 
Httle  pet  kissed  her  hand  to  him  as  they  moved  away. 
"  Miss  Dora  "  caught  a  last  look  of  love  from  Caro,  but 
she  saw  that  Mrs.  Torrington  did  not  tmn  her  head  for  a 
parting  glance  at  the  house  where  all  her  happy  manied 
life  had  been  passed.  In  a  few  days  the  furniture  she 
had  selected  when  a  bride,  her  beautiful  silver  —  old 
heirlooms  and  wedding  presents  —  the  childi-en's  crib, 
and  the  family  porti-aits,  would  all  be  put  up  at  auction. 


XXIII. 

T AK  EN     IN  . 

IT  was  late  in  the  next  afternoon  that  an  omnibus 
called  at  the  deserted  house  to  take  our  young  lady 
and  her  trunks  down  to  the  railroad.  She  left  the  train 
at  a  little  station  five  miles  out  of  town,  where  a  simple 
platform  did  duty  as  a  depot.  There  she  left  her  trunk 
in  tl  e  charge  of  a  man  who  ran  the  post-office,  the  rail- 
road station,  and  a  small  all-kinds-of-goods  store. 

"  Any  of  uncle's  family  been  down  to-day  ? "  she  asked 
him. 

"  Yes,  Archie  was  here  half  an  hour  ago.  They  didn't 
expect  you,  did  they  ?  "Won't  be  down  again,  likely. 
The  Hoyts  were  along  with  their  express-wagon,  going 
home  from  mill,  a  bit  ago.  Could  have  taken  yon  as  well 
as  not.     Have  to  foot  it,  I  expect." 

"  I  am  able  to  do  that,  luckily.  It  isn't  more  than  two 
miles  and  a  half,  I  believe,  though  it  is  rather  'hard 
h'istin'  of  yourself  np  the  hill,'  as  old  Jake  says." 

She  had  a  very  heavy  heart  to  carry  as  she  climbed  the 
rough  road. 

All  the  dear  old  times — the  duets  and  the  talks  with 
Mrs.  Torrington — the  sunset  reveries  by  t  le  river  window 
— the  rides  on  Black  Prince — the  Winter  evenings  in  the 
library,  when  Mr.  Torrington  read  aloud  and  talked  de- 
lightfully— Pinky-AVinky,  with  their  sweet  absurdities — 
Caro,  with  her  impulsive  haughtiness  and  her  passionate 

■''  (291) 


292  THEODORA  '.    A    HOME    STOET. 

love  and  repentance — Aleclv's  gaj,  boyish  friendliness — 
all  were  over. 

"  That  chapter  of  my  life  is  ended,"  she  thought ;  "  I 
would  not  mind  if  they  only  were  my  friends  ;  but,  oh, 
to  part  like  that.  I  can't  stand  it !  I  did  love  them 
so!" 

When  Mrs.  Torrington  had  said  unkind  things  to  her 
in  ill-temper  before,  she  had  controlled  and  comforted 
herself  by  recalling  a  hundred  marks  of  confidence  and 
love  which  she  had  given  her  in  her  truer  moods.  But 
to  have  this  the  last ! 

If  youth  is  moi'e  hopeful  than  age,  it  is  more  hopeless, 
as  well.  When  a  storm  of  sorrow  bursts  on  a  voung: 
head,  it  is  as  if  the  sun  and  moon  were  blotted  out  for- 
ever ;  but  the  older  sufferer  has  seen  daybreak  after  so 
many  a  black  night,  that  he  has  learned  to  expect  it. 

She  sat  down  to  rest  at  her  favorite  "  limestone  rocks." 
A  dense  black  smoke-cloud  hung  over  the  city,  and  drifted 
off  in  sombre  phantoms  towards  the  sky.  A  few  degrees 
to  the  west  of  it,  the  sun  was  sinking  in  billows  of  glory. 
The  forests  had  taken  on  shades  of  gold  and  of  bronze 
that  brought  them  into  harmony  with  his  magnificence. 
Onlj^  cool  glimpses  of  the  winding  creek,  and  the  sober 
green  of  hemlocks  planted  on  an  Indian  mound,  broke 
the  lavish  richness  of  color  that  flushed  the  skies  rested 
on  the  valley,  and  mantled  the  swelling  hills. 

As  she  looked  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  bridge,  the 
grave  blues  and  grays  of  the  eastern  clouds  foreshadowed 
that  night  was  soon  to  brood  over  woods  and  hamlet  and 
the  chui'ch-yard  on  the  hill. 

It  was  dark  within  doors  but  still  twilight  without, 
when  she  reached  the  house.  She  could  see  the  light 
from  the  sitting-room  grate,  through  the  window,  but  she 


TAKEN    IN.  293 

heard  the  voices  of  the  girls  in  the  cow-yard ;  so  she 
walked  on  quietly  and  leaned  over  the  fence.  There 
were  five  cows  in  the  yard.  Kate  was  milking  one,  and 
Bessie  another.  Topsy,  a  bright  and  impish-looking  black 
kitten,  which  the  rest  called  Bessie's  Familiar,  was  sitting 
up  on  her  haunches  under  the  cow,  while  her  mistress 
milked  into  her  mouth. 

"  There,  Tops,  that  will  do.  I  would  give  a  good  deal 
to  know  how  Dora  feels  to-night,  wouldn't  you,  Kate  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  I  would !  " 

"  How  much  ?  "  called  a  voice  from  the  fence. 

"  Why,  you  child,  where  did  you  come  from ! "  cried 
Bessie,  starting  so  suddenly  that  Bonny  came  near  kicking 
over  tlie  pail,  or  the  bucket,  as  they  would  have  called  it. 

"We  had  no  idea  of  being  taken  up  so  quick,"  said 
Kate,  laughing ;  "  but  I  '11  give  two  cents  out  of  the  butter 
money,  if  Bess  will.     How  do  you  feel,  anyhow  ?  " 

"  I  feel  like  that  old  horse  ;  where  are  the  two  cents  % '' 

An  old  white  horse,  retired  on  a  pension,  stood  on  the 
top  of  the  hill,  like  an  equestrian  statue,  in  bold  relief 
against  the  dark  sky,  head  and  tail  drooping  as  if  there 
was  not  enough  left  in  life  to  make  him  stir. 

"  You  don't  look  much  like  him,"  said  Bessie,  taking 
up  her  milk-bucket  and  putting  aside  the  milking  stool. 

"  No,"  said  Kate,  following  her  out  of  the  yard.  "  She 
looks  uncommonly  pretty  with  her  cheeks  so  red,  walking. 
But  what  has  happened  ?  do  hurry  and  tell  us  all  about  it." 

She  went  along  with  them  to  the  stone  inilk-house ; 
but  as  they  passed  the  sitting-room  window,  saw  her 
uncle  sitting  alone  before  the  fire  in  the  dusk. 

"  Let  me  run  in  and  see  uncle  and  aunt,  and  then 
when  you  are  all  ready  to  sit  down,  I  will  tell  the  whole 
story." 


294:  THEODORA:  A  noME  STor.y. 

She  stole  quietly  into  the  sitting-- rooai,  and  stood 
demurely,  with  folded  hands  and  do\vncast  eyes,  beside  her 
nncle,  who  sat  in  a  large  rocking-ehair  gazing  at  the 
blazing  coals. 

"  Please,  sir,  could  you  take  in  a  poor  outcast  for  the 
night  ?     It  is  right  chilly  out  of  doors." 

He  did  not  look  up  till  she  began  to  speak ;  then  it  was 
curious  to  see,  as  she  glanced  at  him  with  mock  shyness, 
hoM^  a  comprehension  of  the  case  began  to  show  itself  at 
his  mouth  and  spread  over  his  face. 

"  Outcast,  are  you  ?  Well,  you  look  too  likely  a  girl  to 
be  left  out  in  the  cold !  We  must  take  you  in,  to  be  sure," 
patting  her  on  the  shoulder.  "  Give  me  a  kiss  and  I 
promise  you  shelter  and  rations.'' 

Aunt  Margaret  came  in  from  the  kitchen,  where  she 
had  been  putting  away  the  tea-things. 

"  Why,  Dora,  my  child,  is  that  you !  did  you  rain 
down  ? " 

"  H^o,  auntie,  I  walked  up." 

"Walked  up,  did  you?  Tired  and  hungry  then,'' 
giving  her  a  warm  kiss  of  welcome.  "  You  must  have 
some  supper,  first  thing." 

"  Could  I  have  some  baked  apples  and  milk  ? " 

"  Yes ;  I  baked  a  gi'eat  tin  full  of  nice  sweet  apples  this 
afternoon ;  I  must  have  had  a  presentiment  you  were 
coming." 

"  How  nice  !  Let  me  run  out  to  the  milk-house  and 
get  a  bowl  of  milk  from  Kate,  and  I  am  all  right.  I 
sha'n't  want  anything  else." 

When  the  lamps  were  lit  and  the  family  gathered 
around  the  fire,  Theodora  sitting  next  to  her  uncle  so  that 
he  should  hear  it  all,  told  the  story  of  the  conliscation, 
interrupted  by  many  questions  and  comments 


TAKEN"   IN. 


295 


Finally  old  Jake,  who  had  his  accustomed  corner  by 
the  fireside,  burst  into  a  chuckling  laugh.  Everybody 
looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  It  just  does  me  good  to  see  these  big-bugs  tooken 
down,"  he  explained;  "I  just  hope  right  smart  of  urn 
will  be  confiscated.'' 

"  I  don't  see  what  grudge  you  have  against  Mr.  Tor- 
rington,  Jake,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Oh,  nothin'  p'tic'lar ;  only  he's  so  mighty  proud.  I  seen 
him  one  day  last  Spring  come  drivun  down  yere,  in  a  little 
open  buggy  all  sLinin',  with  them  prancin'  grey  horses  o' 
hisen.  They  come  to  that  place  down  yender,  where  the  run 
riz  over  the  road,  ye  mind,  after  that  big  rain.  It  hadn't 
been  down  more'n  two  days,  and  the  mud  was  tole'ble 
sticky,  I  tell  you.  His  span,  they  flounced  into  it,  but 
gettin'  out  wasn't  that  easy.  Fust  he  knew,  they  was 
stalled  in  it.  I  was  up  in  the  sugar  camp  carryin'  sngar- 
water,  and  I  just  looked  out  ahint  a  tree  and  seen  it  all. 
I  tell  ye,  it  was  victuals  and  drink  to  me  to  see  how  kind 
o'  helpless  he  looked  sottun  up  there  with  his  broadcloth 
'n  his  shiny  buggy  all  spattered,  and  his  fine  greys  a 
whiskun  their  tails,  and  steppun,  and  plungun  in  deeper 
every  time.  Every  little  while  he'd  hit  um  a  lick  an' 
they'd  start  like  they  was  riled,  but  they  wouldn't  pull  a 
speck  more.  I  didn't  know  but  he  was  agoim  to  set  there 
agin  the  mud  dried  up,  and  thinks  I,  '  You  may,  old  feller, 
for  all  o'  me ; '  but  finally  he  brung  hisself  to  ut,  and 
jumped  out.  Tou'd  ought  t'  'ave  saw  his  paytent  leather 
gaiters,  plump  down  in  that  mud !  he  was  over  shoe- 
mouth  fust  thing,  and  I  just  thought  his  white  socks 
wouldn't  look  so  mighty  fine  when  he  driv  back  to 
town."  Jake  shook  with  inward  laughter  at  the  recollec- 
tion. 


296  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STOKT. 

"  Well,  how  did  the  horses  get  out  ? "  asked  Archie. 

"  Oh,  he  coaxed  mn,  an'  patted  um,  and  give  urn  a 
han'fulo' grass,  he  did  so/  An'  when  they  got  ready  they 
g-in  a  good  pull,  an'  come  out." 

"  !N^ow,  Jake,  what  was  there  so  very  funny  in  all  that,'' 
asked  Kate ;  "  suppose  your  mules  had  got  stalled  when 
you  were  hauling  logs,  and  Mr.  Torrington  had  stood 
behind  a  tree,  laughing  at  you,  all  the  time,  instead  of 
coming  near  to  help  you ;  what  would  you  think  of  him  ? " 

"  Oh,  but  that's  different ! " 

"  I  don't  see  it." 

"Which?" 

"  I  don't  see  where  the  difference  is." 

"  Why,  he  feels  so  proud  and  stuck  up,  you  know,  with 
'lais  grand  house,  and  fine  clothes,  and  horses,  and  things." 

"  How  do  you  know  he  is  ? "  asked  Theodora. 

"Oh— /know." 

"  How  do  you  know  I  " 

"  Jake  judges  by  himseK,  likely,"  said  Archie ;  "  he 
knows  he  would  feel  stuck  up  if  he  had  all  those  things, 
BO  he  takes  it  for  granted  other  folks  do." 

"  Cou?-se  he  is." 

"!Now,  Jake,  did  you  ever  speak  with  Mr.  Torring- 
ton f 

"  Me  ?    ITot  much !" 

"  Well  then,  I  have  been  in  his  family  two  years,  and 
ought  to  be  better  acquainted  with  him  than  you  are,  and 
it  is  my  judgment  that  he  is  no  more  proud  of  his  house 
than  you  are  of  your  melon  patch.  As  to  his  good 
clothes,  is  there  any  virtue  in  old  clothes  ?  If  one's  busi- 
ness allows  it,  and  he  has  the  money  to  pay  for  them, 
why  shouldn't  he  wear  good  clothes  ?  I  am  sure  I  like 
the  looks  of  them,  and  I  don't  see  why  you  shouldn't.     I 


TAKEN   IN.  297 

think  there  is  a  cniel  lack  of  charity  in  the  poor  towards 
the  rich,"  she  added,  borne  on  to  say  more  than  she 
meant  to.  "  They  just  make  np  in  their  own  minds  a 
set  of  hateful  feelings,  pride  and  contempt,  and  vanity, 
and  fasten  them  onto  everybody  that  happen  to  live  in  a 
certain  style.  They  accuse  them  of  getting  things  to 
'make  a  swell,'  when  they  just  get  them  because  they 
are  convenient  or  pretty  to  have ;  and  they  take  it  for 
granted  a  lady  is  trying  to  '  show  off '  her  finery  when 
she  is  thinking  no  more  about  it  than  a  red-I>ird  thinks 
of  his  gay  feathers.  Rich  people  get  elegant  things,  and 
wear  and  use  them  just  because  they  are  elegant,  and 
they  admire  them,  and  poor  people  sneer  and  gnimble, 
as  if  they  got  them  just  on  purpose  to  spite  them." 

"  But  don't  you  think,  Dora,  the  rich  ought  to  consider 
the  poor,  and  not  indulge  themselves  in  so  many  elegan- 
cies, while  others  are  lacking  the  very  necessaries  of 
life  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Bradley. 

"  Yes,  auntie ;  but  then,  the  poor  ought  to  consider  how 
many  of  the  rich  started  on  the  very  same  level  as  they, 
and  have  made  a  fortune  just  by  working  while  they  slept." 

"  I  believe  there  is  a  good  deal  in  that,"  said  Bessie. 
"  It  seems  as  if  a  man  that  was  temperate,  and  healthy, 
and  industrious,  and  just  tolerably  smari,  needn't  to  be 
very  poor  in  this  country." 

"  How  was  it,  uncle,  with  Mr.  Torring-tou  ?  Did  he 
inherit  his  money  ?" 

"  No  ;  there  used  to  be  property  in  the  family  ;  when 
they  first  came  over  from  England,  they  owned  large 
plantations  in  Old  Virginia ;  but  his  grandfather  was  a 
Toiy  in  the  Ilevolution,  and  finally  went  over  to  Eng- 
land, and  entered  the  British  serWce,  so  that  his  estates 
were  confiscated  by  the  Continental  Congress." 
13* 


298  THEODORA  I    A    HOME    STOET. 

"  Is  that  so  ?" 

"  Then,  his  son,  this  Hugh  Torrington's  father,  came 
back  after  the  war  was  over,  and  spent  everything  he  had 
trying  to  get  them  back.  He  died  when  Hugh  was  a 
small  boy,  and  he  had  nothing  to  start  on  but  his  good 
blood  and  brains." 

"  So  he  has  just  built  up  his  prosperity  by  good  solid 
work  ! "  exclaimed  Theodora,  her  admii-ation  for  him 
going  np  a  notch  higher  yet. 

"  Work  !"'  growled  old  Jake,  incredulously. 

"  Tes,  indeed,  Jake,  good  hard  work.  Working  with 
one's  head,  as  he  does,  is  enough  harder  than  working 
as  you  do,  and  he  keeps  at  it  a  farm  hand's  hours,  too ; 
I  have  no  doubt  he  often  does  more  work  in  a  week  than 
you  do  in  a  month." 

"  Then,  Jake,"  said  Will,  laughing,  "  wouldn't  you  like 
a  candle  to  go  to  bed  with  ?" 

"  I  b'lieve  I  might  as  well.  These  girls  is  rather  savage 
on  me,  a'n't  they  ?" 

The  girls  bid  him  good-night,  with  good-natured  smiles, 
as  he  went  off,  and  Theodora  called  after  him  : 

"  Next  time  you  see  a  gentleman's  horses  stalled  in  the 
mud,  don't  stand  behind  a  tree  and  laugh  at  hhn,  unless 
you'd  like  to  be  served  the  same  way." 

"  We  haven't  heard  yet  what  you  have  been  doing  since 
the  family  went  away,  yesterday-  noon,"  said  Mi  s.  Brad- 
ley.    "  You'd  better  tell  your  story  through." 

"  After  they  were  gone,  I  wanted  to  have  had  a  good 
cry,  but  I  couldn't  stop.  I  found  Yiolet  and  Chloe  were 
all  attention  to  the  'so'jers'  as  soon  as  the  family  were 
gone.  So  I  didn't  feel  any  care  about  dinner.  I  went 
back  to  the  nursery,  and  packed  the  rest  of  the  things. 
I  was  tired  enough  to  drop  on  the  floor  when  I  was  done. 


TAKEN   IN.  299 

"  The  soldiers  enjoyed  the  luxuries  of  the  house  to  the 
full.  It  did  exasperate  me  to  have  Chanticleer  settle 
down  in  Mrs.  Torrington's  own  room  for  the  night !  I 
hope  she  will  never  hear  of  it.  However,  I  was  very 
civil  to  him,  for  I  had  an  axe  to  grind.  I  held  him  to  his 
promise  to  spare  the  furniture  of  my  room,  and  left  it  in 
Caesar's  care  to  be  boxed  and  stored  for  Mrs.  Torrington. 
To-day  I  ran  around  and  saw  all  my  music  scholars,  gave 
a  lesson  wherever  it  was  needed,  hurried  home  to  pack 
my  own  trunk,  and  got  the  last  thing  in  after  the  omni- 
bus was  at  the  door.  So  I  hadn't  time  for  many  last 
fond  looks  at  the  poor,  dear,  deserted  old  home.  I  took 
my  satchel  in  hand,  and  started  out  like  a  pilgrim  and  a 
stranger." 

"  But  you  knew  you  had  a  place  of  refuge,"  said  Aunt 
Margaret. 

"  And  you  shall  be  just  as  welcome  here  as  one  of  our 
own  children,"  said  Uncle  Graham,  closing  his  large  warm 
palm  over  her  hand,  which  lay  on  the  arm  of  his  chair. 

Theodora's  tear-springs  were,  much  more  easily  opened 
by  kindness  than  rudeness,  and  it  was  a  minute  or  two 
before  she  could  speak. 

"  I  felt  as  if  I  must  come  up  here  and  get  comforted, 
and  see  what  you  thought  better  to  do." 

"  Couldn't  you  give  all  your  lessons  in  two  days  of  the 
week  ?"  asked  Bessie,  who,  though  the  youngest  sister,  was 
called  "  the  planner  "  in  the  family. 

"  I  suppose  so,  now  Aleck  and  Caro  are  gone,  and  Kitty 
Maynard  is  to  stop.  .  There  is  another  thing  that  stung 
me ;  w^hen  I  was  there  this  morning,  Mr.  Maynard  said 
he  hardly  supposed  I  should  think  of  going  on,  now  my 
principal  patrons  were  driven  away ;  at  any  rate,  it  would 
not  be  convenient  for  Kitty  to  continue ;  she  was  delicate. 


300  THEODOKA  '.   A   HOME   STOKT. 

and  they  did  not  like  her  to  be  pinned  down  to  the  piano. 
She  is  delicate,  but  no  more  so  than  when  she  began 
taking  lessons.  He  saw  the  Torringtons  off,  and  I  can't 
but  think  she  put  tliat  idea  in  his  head.  1  don't  know  as 
it  is  worth  while  to  stay  at  all.  You  know  several  Union 
families  dropped  me  this  Summer  because  I  was  staying 
with  the  Torringtons ;  and  now  if  all  the  Southern  sym- 
pathizers are  going  to  give  me  up  because  I  am  not  stay- 
ing with  them,  I  shall  be  stranded.  Still,  I  have  enough 
scholars  left  to  finish  up  my  piano  money  by  Christmas, 
if  the  board  does  not  eat  up  too  much  of  it." 

"  You  must  stay  here  and  be  one  of  our  children  till 
that  time,"  said  her  aunt,  "  and  we  will  send  you  into 
town  twice  a  week  to  give  your  lessons." 

"  Oh,  that  would  be  delightful  for  me,  but  altogether 
too  much  trouble  for  you." 

"  No,  indeed,"  they  all  protested  ;  "  try  it  and  see !" 

"  It  is  no  more  than  I  should  like  your  father  and  mo- 
ther to  do  for  one  of  my  children  in  the  same  circum- 
stances," said  her  uncle. 

"  Xor  more  than  they  would  love  to  do.'' 

"  Well,  then,  let  us  consider  it  settled." 

"  You  ought  to  have  '  Come  ye  disconsolate '  painted 
over  your  front  door,  uncle.  Here  are  old  Jake,  and 
three-legged  Towser,  and  me,  the  present  vagrants  settled 
down  on  your  bounty,  and  I  have  heard  enough  of  your 
family  history  to  know  there  is  an  unfailing  succession  of 
them." 

''  "Wliere  do  you  say  Torrington  has  gone  ? "  he  asked, 
smiling,  and  taking  a  pear  from  the  dish  Bessie  was  pass- 
ing around. 

"  That's  one  thing  that  hurts  me,  uncle ;  they  didn't 
tell  me  where  they  were  going." 


TAKEN   IN.  301 

"  Then  there's  uo  doubt  they  are  bound  for  Richmond." 

"  You  think  so  ? " 

"  Yes.  You  needn't  take  it  unkindly  that  he  didn't 
tell  jou ;  he  did  well  to  tell  nobody,  if  he  was  going 
there.  Strange,  a  man  of  such  sense  as  Torrington  cannot 
see  that  secession  is  wrong  !  " 

"  And  he  wonders  that  such  a  sensible  man  as  Bradley 
sees  it  is  right." 

"  I  suppose  so ;  well,  the  future  will  judge  between 
us." 

In  a  few  days  Theodora  was  domesticated  at  Esmadura, 
taking  her  part  in  "  co-operative  housekeeping,"  and 
entering  into  the  simple  rural  life  with  no  little  zest. 

Meanwhile,  new  movements  in  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  stirred  new  hopes  and  fears,  both  J^orth  and 
South.  "A  cliano;e  of  commanders  and  re-ors-anization  of 
troops  seemed  to  portend  that  blood  was  to  flow  once 
more  before  Winter  shut  the  two  armies  into  their  lairs. 

One  day,  near  the  middle  of  December,  Theodora  re- 
ceived a  hasty  note  from  Donald,  saying : 

"  "We  are  glad  of  one  more  chance  before  going  into 
winter-quarters.  We  are  bound  to  conquer,  and  we  have 
high  hopes  the  time  has  come.  We  are  just  about  break- 
ing camp,  so  this  is  my  good-bye  till  after  the  battle.  I 
will  not  disgrace  yon,  Theodora.  I  shall  remember  that 
'  a  dead  lion  is  better  than  a  living  dog  ;'  though  I  hope 
to  be  neither.  Come  what  will,  I  am  glad  to  suffer  and 
to  do  for  our  country  and  her  future.  You  will  pray  for 
me,  and  your  prayers  will  come  down  in  blessings  on 

"  YouE  Soldier  Bkothee." 

Donald  Cameron  had  not  a  drop  of  game-cock  courage 


302  theodoea:  a  home  stoey. 

in  his  veins.  For  that  very  reason,  perhaps,  he  had  an 
extravagant  admiration  of  it.  From  his  childhood  up, 
whether  it  was  the  story  of  David  and  Goliah,  or  Chevy 
Chase,  or  Rohin  Hood,  or  fierce  Achillas  and  Hector  of 
the  glancing  plume,  nothing  stirred  his  blood  like  that 
I'eckless  darino;  which  exults  in  dan2:er  and  fiino-s  defiance 
at  death.  He  felt,  sometimes,  as  if  he  would  give  his 
whole  college  course  if  he  could  buy  the  reckless  hardi- 
hood of  Jim  Bangs,  who  seemed  to  find  only  a  pleasant 
excitement  in  a  hail-storm  of  bullets.  Yet  all  the  regi- 
ment knew  the  young  lieutenant  for  one  of  their  bravest 
officers.  Conscience  and  imagination  were  the  feeders  of 
his  courage.  He  was  keenly  sensitive  to  pain,  both  for 
himself  and  others  ;  every  nerve  plead  to  be  let  off  from 
the  field  of  carnage  with  its  horror  and  disgust,  but  the 
will  never  flinched.  The  very  existence  of  his  country 
was  in  danger ;  it  was  his  duty  to  fight ;  and  he  fought 
like  a  hero.  In  fact,  being  jealous  of  himself,  he  threw 
himself  into  the  thick  of  danger,  where  one  who  had  no 
question  of  his  own  courage  would  have  spared  himself. 

The  second  day  after  receiving  his  letter,  Theodora 
went  into  town  to  give  her  music-lessons.  Although  it 
was  the  fifteenth  of  Deceuiber,  the  day  was  so  mild  that 
she  chose  to  go  once  more  on  horseback.  She  felt  as  if  a 
long  ride  would  brace  her  quailing  heart.  The  more  she 
heard  and  read,  the  more  she  realized  the  risks  of  battle, 
and  she  felt  greater  fear  for  her  brothers- than  when  they 
first  went  into  the  war. 

By  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  she  had  finished  her 
work  and  was  mounted  for  home.  As  she  turned  into 
the  main  street,  she  saw,  by  the  groups  t>f  men  in  front 
of  the  bulletin-boards,  that  the  clash  of  arms  had  come. 
She  rode  up  to  the  side- walk,  where  an  urchin  was  cry- 


TAKEN^    IN.  303 

ing,  "  Three  'clock  'disliin  ! "  and  challenged  him  to  stand 
and  deliver.  As  soon  as  the  paper  was  hers,  she  cantered 
briskly  out  of  town.  Once  on  the  open  road,  she  hung 
the  bridle  on  the  saddle  horn  and  let  her  nag  pace  along 
at  pleasure,  while  she  devoured  the  news.  Presently 
Elfie  pricked  up  her  ears,  and  started  forward  at  an  excla- 
mation which  ^he  supposed  was  meant  for  her  ;  but  it  was 
only  an  outburst  of  impatience  from  her  rider.  She  was 
reading  how  the  Union  amiy,  all  ready  for  action,  stood 
champing  its  bit  on  the  north  shore  of  tho  Rappahannock, 
while  the  enemy  rallied  their  forces  and  sowed  the  oppo- 
site bluffs  with  death  and  destruction — all  because  the 
pontoon-bridges,  promised  a  month  before,  were  not 
forthcoming.  She  checked  the  horse  to  a  walk,  and  went  on 
reading  how  those  dauntless  hosts  hurled  themselves  against 
those  blazing  heightf ,  only  to  be  dashed  back,  shattered 
like  the  waves,  yet  like  the  waves  gathering  themselves 
again  for  a  fresh  assault.  She  leaned  her  elbow  on  her 
knee,  her  chin  in  her  hand,  and  rode  slowly  forward,  gaz- 
ing into  the  distance,  unseeing.  It  was  the  old  story  over 
again,  of  lavish  heroism  spent  in  vain.  Rivers  of  blood, 
and  both  armies  where  they  were  before.  Was  Donald's 
blood  in  the  tide  ? 

At  length,  she  brushed  away  a  tear,  sat  up  straight, 
drew  the  rein,  and  put  Eliie  into  a  rapid  canter.  As  her 
hoofs  beat  their  dactyls  al  :ng  the  hard,  smooth  road, 
things  began  to  look  brighter ;  Donald  had  come  out 
safely  before — he  would  again.  First  accoants  were  a',,!. 
to  be  exaggerated  ;  perhaps  the  losses  were  not  so  terrible 
after  all.  God  would  bring  good  out  of  the  evil  some- 
how. Though  the  field  was  lost,  all  was  not  lost.  The 
country  would  be  purified  and  ennobled  by  all  the  patri- 
otic sacrifices.     The  spirits  which  cannot  be  raised  by  a 


304  THEODORA:    A   HOME    STORY. 

6wift  canter  through  the  fresh,  cool  air,  with  a  noble 
niountain  horizon  in  view,  must  be  lower  than  Theodora's 
often  sank.  As  Eiiie  turned  from  the  macadamized  turn- 
pike to  climb  the  rough  road  up  the  hills,  through  the 
forest,  she  set  herself  at  it  with  such  cheery  resolution 
that  her  rider  entered  into  her  spirit,  and  began  to  feel  as 
if  she  could  do  or  bear  anything.  Horses  have  a  good 
deal  of  influence  over  us.  How  can  a  man  that  drives  a 
lazy,  grudging  shirk  of  a  beast  keep  the  same  temper  of 
mind  as  one  who  has  before  him  a  living  example  of  pluck 
and  patience  in  the  very  creature  that  draws  him  ? 

The  next  day,  and  the  next,  and  the  next,  Theodora 
said  to  herself  that  she  must  not  expect  to  hear  from 
Donald.  The  day  after  came  a  letter  and  paper  from 
home.  The  paper  reported  the  Vermont  brigade  as  losing 
at  Fredericksburg,  26  killed,  141  wounded,  2  missing. 
The  letter  from  her  father  only  said  what  she  was  con- 
tinually saying  to  herself,  "  We  must  commit  our  dear 
one  to  the  God  of  battles ;  we  hear  nothing  yet," 
Another  day  wore  on,  and  she  told  herself,  "  Ko  news  is 
good  news ;  he  is  too  busy  to  write.  If  anything  had 
happened  some  of  them  would  have  telegraphed."  The 
following  day  was  Sunday,  when  there  was  no  mail ;  so 
she  looked  forward  to  Monday  with  doubled  hope. 

She  stood  at  the  door,  watching  for  her  cousin  Will  to 
come  back  from  the  post-office.  The  house  stood  a  little 
below  the  summit  of  the  hill  it  was  on,  so  that  the  iirst 
glimpse  of  people  coming  in  that  direction  was  to  be  had 
only  a  few  rods  from  the  house,  as  they  came  over  its  crest. 

"  There  are  Elfie's  ears,''  she  said  to  her  cousin  Bessie, 
who  stood  with  her  arm  around  her.  "  I  know,  by  the 
droop  of  them.  Will  hasn't  any  letter." 

Sure  enough,  as  he  rode  up  he  shook  his  head. 


TAKEN    IN.  305 

"  I  believe  tlie  letter  has  been  miscamed,"  said  Bessie  ; 
as  everybody  says,  and  nobody  believes,  when  a  longed- 
for  missive  fails  to  come. 

"Oh,  yes,''  said  Theodora;  "I  wonder  they  ever  find 
their  way  out  of  the  aniiy," 

She  went  bravely  back  to  her  sewing,  on  the  lounge 
beside  her  aunt,  while  the  cousins  began  to  talk,  in  their 
kind,  cheering  way — Kate  declaring  she  should  go  to  the 
post-office  herself,  to-morrow,  and  she  should  be  sure  to 
get  something ;  she  always  did . 

All  at  once,  the  poor  child  burst  into  a  wild  passion  of 
tears.  In  an  instant,  her  aunt  was  pressing  her  head 
against  her  motherly  bosom,  saying : 

"  Don't  cry,  dear !  There,  there,  don't  cry.  You  will 
hear  good  news  to-morrow,  I  hope." 

"I  know  it,  auntie,''  she  gasped.  "It  isn't  that  I 
think  anything  has  happened  to  him ;  only,  somehow,  I 
couldn't  help  it ; "  and  her  shoulders  heaved  with  the 
effort  to  hold  down  the  sobs. 

"'Hope  deferred'  made  your  'heart  sick,' didn't  it, 
poor  child !  Well,  cry  away  all  you  want  to  ;  maybe  it 
will  do  you  good." 

The  two  girls  stole  quietly  away,  and  left  her  to  have 
it  oat  in  their  mother's  kind  arms.  They  knew  that 
was  a  good  place. 

After  a  while,  the  fit  of  weeping  spent  itself,  and  she 
felt  as  much  better  as  the  sky  seems  to  feel  after  a  good 
shower.  She  came  near  breaking  down  again  when  they 
went  out  to  tea,  and  she  found  the  girls  had  made  coffee, 
and  opened  a  can  of  their  choicest  seckel  pears. 

"You "are  going  to  stay  me  with  coffee,  and  comfort 
me  with  pears,  aren't  you,  girls  ? "  she  said,  between 
laughing  and  crying. 


306  THEODOEA  :    A   HOME    STORY. 

Tuesday,  Kate  went  to  the  ofliee,  and,  as  she  had  prom- 
ised, held  up  a  letter  as  she  came  in  sight ;  but  she  called 
out,  as  soon  as  she  came  within  hearing,  "  It's  only  from 
your  father." 

Theodora  took  it  with  a  faltering  heart-beat,  and  ran 
up  to  her  room,  to  read  it  alone. 

They  had  received  a  letter  from  the  chaplain  of  Don- 
ald's regiment.  He  wrote  that  the  captain  had  been  dis- 
abled early  in  the  engagement,  so  that  Lieut.  Cameron 
was  in  command  of  the  company  most  of  the  day.  They 
had  fought  nobly,  till,  about  sunset,  in  making  a  charge, 
they  suffered  terrible  havoc,  and  the  lieutenant  had  not 
been  seen  since.  "  Still,"  the  chaplain  said  (and  her 
father  had  copied  his  words),  "  I  cannot  give  him  up  for 
killed.  I  went  over  the  field  that  night,  doing  what  I 
could  for  the  wounded ;  and,  the  next  day,  when  I  first 
learned  that  he  was  missing,  I  took  one  of  his  regiment 
with  me  to  the  very  spot  where  that  charge  was  made. 
The  ground  was  piled  with  the  dead  and  wounded  ;  but 
we  made  thorough  search,  and  found  no  evidence  that 
your  son  was  among  them.  It  is  true,  dear  brother,  that 
in  many  cases  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  identify 
the  body ;  yet  I  cannot  but  hope  Lieut.  Cameron  was  not 
there.  Let  us  trust  that  the  Lord  of  hosts  has  him  in 
safe  keeping,  even  though  a  prisoner,  and  will  yet  restore 
him  to  you.  There  is  not  a  young  man  in  the  regiment 
who  would  be  more  missed.  His  charming  social  quali- 
ties, activity,  and  bravery  made  him  a  favorite  with  both 
officers  and  men,  and  his  high  Christian  character  gave 
him  an  influence  we  can  ill  afford  to  spare." 

"  This  is  all  we  know,"  her  father  wrote.  "  Living  or 
dying,  he  is  the  Lord's,  and  we  can  only  commit  him  to 
the  love  of  that  Father  who  never  loses  sii^ht  of  His 


TAKEN   IN.  307 

children.  We  long  to  liave  you  with  ns  in  this  dark 
hour,  my  dear  child ;  but  I  would  not  have  you  come 
unless  it  is  best  for  you.  I  have  written  to  the  chaplain 
and  the  colonel,  asking  them  to  infonn  us  at  once  if  they 
are  able  to  get  any  further  information.  There  seems  to 
be  nothing  more  we  can  do  at  present  but  to  stay  our- 
selves upon  our  God,  and  wait.  In  the  last  precious 
letter  we  had  from  the  dear  boy,  he  said :  'The  eternal 
God  is  my  refuge.  I  can  never  get  beyond  His  care.  So 
you  must  not  be  anxious  about  me,  my  blessed  father 
and  mother.'  Oh,  what  a  joy  and  hope  he  was  to  us 
all !  " 

"  He  is  not  dead  !  "  Theodora  said  to  herself  ;  feeling 
as  if  an  actual  physical  weight  was  taken  off  from  her 
heart.  It  sprang  up  with  a  bound.  lie  would  come 
home  safe  jet ! 

She  ran  downstairs  to  read  the  letter,  with  a  face  so 
bright  that  the  family  were  disappointed  enough  when 
they  heard  how  dubious  the  news  was,  after  all.  The 
best  that  could  be  hoped  for  seemed  to  be  a  living  death 
in  one  of  those  awful  prisons.  But  Love  and  Hope  had 
full  possession  of  the  sister's  heart,  and  turned  out  every 
foreboding  like  a  traitor. 

"  He  is  taken  prisoner,"  she  said,  "  and  prisoners  are 
being  exchanged  all  the  time.  Ton  see,  the  chaplain 
says  they  made  thorough  search,  and,  if  Donald  had 
been  on  the  field,  they  would  surely  have  found  him." 

"  But,  you  know,  my  dear,"  said  her  aunt,  who  felt  as 
if  it  would  only  be  a  long-drawn  agony  to  watch  and 
wait  in  vain,  "  you  know  they  cannot  always  tell — as  he 
says." 

"  Oh,  but,  auntie,  they  could  tell  Donald.  He  always 
had  his  pockets  full  of  papers,  and  things  any  one  could. 


308  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

tell  him  by.  His  Tinder-clothes  were  all  marked,  and  so 
were  his  pocket-book  and  his  Ivuife." 

The  words  were  confident,  but  there  was  such  an  un- 
dertone of  dread  beneath  them,  that  no  one  suggested 
again  the  shocking  possibility  that  the  dear  form  was  toni 
past  recognition. 

Theodora  felt  that  she  must  go  home  at  once.  She  did 
not  disguise  from  herself  that  if  her  brother  was  a  pris- 
oner, as  she  hoped — since  there  was  nothing  less  dreadful 
to  hope  for — it  must  be  weeks,  if  not  months,  before  his 
release  could  be  brought  about.  In  the  meanwhile,  they 
needed  her  at  home.  Her  father,  full  of  corn-age  and 
fortitude  for  himself,  was  always  tortured  with  anxiety  if 
his  children  were  in  trouble.  Her  mother  would  be  sure 
to  believe  the  worst,  though  she  bore  it  like  a  saint.  As 
for  Faith,  she  always  looked  things  in  the  eye,  just  as  they 
were.  H  imagination  created  no  terrors  for  her,  neither 
did  it  veil  any.  Theodora  did  not  put  it  in  words,  but 
she  felt  that  her  obstinate,  audacious  hopefulness  would 
stay  up  their  sinking  spirits.  It  had  been  a  question 
w^hether  it  was  worth  while  to  stay  for  the  few  pupils  she 
had  left,  and  this  decided  it.     She  would  go  home. 


XXIV. 


NO     NEW 


OUR  homeward-bound  traveler  was  comfortably 
settled,  with  her  shawl-strap  beside  her ;  but  as 
they  approached  Philadelphia  the  cars  began  to  fill  so 
rapidly  that  she  saw  she  could  not  have  the  luxury  of  a 
seat  to  herself.  She  had  no  ambition  to  be  one  of  those 
women  who  "engage"  a  seat  to  some  invisible  "friend" 
and  stab  with  their  eyes  every  person  that  inquires  about 
it.  She  preferred  to  choose  her  companion,  however,  and 
took  up  her  shawl  at  the  approach  of  a  pale  httle  widow, 
with  a  bouncing  baby  in  her  arms.  The  woman  looked 
pleased,  but  with  a  baby  on  one  arm  and  a  satchel  on  the 
other,  she  could  not  get  on  very  fast ;  and  before  she 
reached  the  seat,  a  man  coming  from  the  opposite  direc- 
tion took  it.  Theodora  looked  at  him  in  sui-prise  and 
vexation ;  but  he  was  gazing  serenely  into  the  distance, 
with  his  chin  uplifted  at  such  a  seK-satisfied  angle  that 
she  did  not  venture  to  protest. 

She  saw  by  his  shoulder-straps  that  he  was  a  Major, 
and  was  all  the  more  provoked  at  his  rudeness. 

The  widow  stopped  in  the  aisle,  disconcerted ;  but  a 
shaggy-haired,  roughly-dressed  countryman  rose  and  gave 
her  his  seat.  She  thanked  him  so  heartily,  that  he  an- 
swered : 

"  'Ta'n't  nothin'.  Women  folks  a'n't  so  well  able  to 
stand  as  we  be,  let  alone  the  little  feller." 

The  Major  threw  himself  back  in  his  corner  of  the  seat, 
and  Theodora  felt  his  eyes  running  all  over  her.     Then 

(309) 


310  THEODORA  !    A   HOME   STOET. 

he  began  to  "  trim  himself  ;"  stroked  his  whiskers,  passed 
his  thumb  imder  his  overhanging  mustache  to  right  and 
to  left,  as  if  to  be  sure  it  was  still  there ;  felt  of  his  hair, 
drew  his  thumb  and  fore-finger  down  the  ridge-pole  of 
his  nose,  to  remind  himself  of  its  elegant  outline  ;  rested 
upon  it  a  moment,  picked  out  his  neck-tie,  took  a  fm'tive 
glance  at  his  watch-chain,  which  was  showing  itself  at  the 
best  advantage  ;  pulled  down  his  vest,  adjusted  his 
military  cape  to  droop  from  his  shoulder  like  a  Spanish 
Don's.  His  uniform  creaked  with  newness  when  he 
moved.  While  his  right  hand  was  busy  most  of  the  time 
in  these  interesting  little  occupations,  his  left  arm  lay 
along  the  back  of  the  seat,  so  that  the  young  lady  could 
not  make  herself  comfortable  without  leanino;  ao^ainst  it. 
If  she  turned  at  all,  she  found  his  disagreeable  eyes  fixed 
upon  her,  and  met  an  atuiosphere  charged  with  tobacco- 
smoke,  flavored  with  brandy.  There  seemed  nothing  to 
do  but  sit  bolt  upright  and  look  out  on  the  dreary  pros- 
pect of  muddy  ground,  mottled  with  snow.  Finally,  her 
seat-mate  rested  his  elbow  on  the  back  of  the  seat  before 
them  and  leaned  forward,  so  as  to  look  her  in  the  face. 

"  You  seem  to  find  the  view  very  attractive  outside," 
he  remarked,  in  a  tone  meant  to  be  both  ironical  and  in- 
sinuating. 

"  No,  sir ;  only  more  so  than  that  inside,"  she  retorted, 
coldly,  turning  her  eyes  full  upon  him  for  a  moment. 

Upon  that,  he  snorted  slightly,  raised  his  eyebrows, 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  let  her  severely  alone,  devot- 
ing himself  to  the  culture  of  his  mustache,  with  evident 
contempt  for  any  young  lady  who  did  not  appreciate  his 
charms.  He  was  more  agreeable  in  this  congealed  state, 
and  Theodora  began  to  amuse  herself,  as  usual,  studying 
her  fellow-passengers. 


NO   NEWS.  311 

As  tliey  ran  into  tlie  depot  at  Philadelphia,  the  most 
noticeable  person  in  the  waiting  crowd  was  a  tall,  remark- 
ably handsome  wojnan,  perhaps  thirty-five  years  old,  who 
was  walking  np  and  down,  with  a  Colonel  on  one  side  of 
her  and  a  Captain  on  the  other,  Theodora  conld  hear  no 
words,  but  she  was  fascinated  in  watching  the  changing 
expression  and  graceful  gestures  of  the  lady,  along  with 
the  devoted  attentions  of  the  two  gentlemen.  She  was 
telling  some  story,  as  it  seemed,  and  addressed  herself 
now  to  one  and  then  the  other,  quite  impartially.  But 
now  came  up  a  Brigadier,  in  all  the  glory  of  sash  and 
sword  and  starry  shoulder-straps.  He  gi-eeted  the  lady 
gallantly,  giving  a  passing  salute  to  the  younger  officers. 
After  shaking  her  hand  warmly,  he  drew  it  within  his 
arm  and  walked  on  with  her,  while  the  Colonel  and  Cap- 
tain hid  their  diminished  heads  and  walked  after,  one 
carrying  her  shawl,  and  the  other  her  traveling-basket, 
exchanging  with  each  other,  as  Theodora  could  see, 
glances  of  chagrin  and  amusement.  The  locomotive  was 
puffing  and  screeching,  by  this  time,  but  the  lady  moved 
on  towards  the  train,  with  her  convoy,  as  deliberately  as 
if  no  engine  would  have  the  effrontery  to  go  off  without 
her.  She  came  into  the  car,  chatting  with  the  General, 
the  other  satellites  meekly  following  with  her  things, 
Thei'e  was  no  vacant  seat,  but  she  glanced  over  the  car 
like  a  queen,  for  whom  there  is  a  place,  of  course.  The 
Major  sprang  to  his  feet  and  called  out,  with  a  grand 
flourish  : 

"  Here,  General ;  allow  me  to  give  your  lady  a  seat." 
The  General  thanked  him,  and  the  lady  nodded  indif- 
ferently as  she  took  it.     As  soon  as  she  was  seated,  the 
Brigadier  took    leave,   saying  :    "  It   is  too   bad,   Mrs. 
Arden,  you  should  be  taking  this  journey  alone.     If  I 


812  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

were  not  bound  to  go  back  to  Washington  to-morrow,  jou 
sliouldn't  do  it.'' 

The  two  younger  officers  lingered  after  he  was  gone, 
though  the  bell  was  ringing,  and  timed  tlieir  departure, 
so  as  to  show  their  coolness  and  agility  by  stepping  from 
the  train  after  it  had  started,  and  bowing  gracefully  to  her 
afterward.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  men  are  made  out  of  the 
little  boys  that  dehglit  in  running  across  the  street  in  front 
of  horses. 

The  Major  was  officiously  anxious  to  do  something  for 
the  General's  friend.  Would  she  like  the  window  up  ? 
Would  she  like  the  shade  down  ?  Would  she  not  allow 
him  to  be  of  any  possible  service  he  could  render  ?  It 
nii:st  be  very  unpleasant  for  ladies  to  travel  alone ! 

She  bowed  carelessly,  and  replied :  "  I  dare  say  I  shall 
not  require  any  assistance,"  in  a  tone  which  civilly  dis- 
missed him  from  existence,  so  far  as  she  was  concerned. 

Theodora  was  thinking — "  How  much  more  neatly  she 
quenched  him  than  I  did  !  I  let  liim  see  that  he  had  dis- 
turbed me — she  just  ig-nores  him ; "  when  the  lady  turned 
to  her,  with  a  pleasant  smile  and  some  trifling  remark  ; 
that  led  on  to  conversation,  and  in  a  few  minutes  she 
learned  that  this  elegant  woman  was  the  wife  of  a  Boston 
artist,  who  had  been  out  as  a  volunteer  nm-se  in  the  army. 
Then  she  was  all  eagerness  to  hear  everything,  and  Mrs. 
Arden  was  lured  along  by  the  enthusiastic  face  turned 
toward  her,  to  tell  a  great  deal  of  her  eventful  experience. 
"  I  saw  the  whole  of  this  last  battle,"  she  said,  at  last. 

"  Oh,  do  tell  me  everything  ! " 

"  Then  I  must  tell  you,  in  the  first  place,  how  I  hap- 
pened to  be  there.  Through  a  misunderstanding  with 
the  surgeon  in  charge,  the  care  of  a  hospital  I  was  to  have 
Lad  was  given  to  the  Sisters  of  Charity.     So  I  was  free. 


NO   NEWS.  313 

I  knew  there  was  to  be  a  battle,  and  I  was  bound  to  get 
near  tlie  tield.  But  tbe  lines  were  drawn  very  strictly. 
Xo  woman  was  allowed  to  go  over  them.  I  saw  tliis 
official  and  that,  and  they  all  said  it  could  not  be  done. 
So  I  decided  to  go  at  once  to  headquarters.  I  called  on 
Mr.  Lincoln,  and  told  him  I  wanted  to  go  to  the  front. 
He  said,  '  Why,  madam,  I  eoidd  more  easily  make  you  a 
member  of  Congress  than  send  you  to  the  front.'  I  told 
him  I  had  no  doubt  I  should  make  a  very  good  member 
of  Congress,  but  that  wasn't  what  I  wanted.  'As  likely 
as  not  you  would  be  taken  prisoner  down  there,'  said  he. 
'  Very  well,'  said  I ;  '  then  I  will  work  for  you  among  the 
rebels.'  '  But  there's  going  to  be  fighting,  and  you  might 
be  killed.' 

"  Then  I  told  him  I  would  rather  be  killed  down  at  the 
front  among  brave  men  than  live  among  cowards  and 
schemers  in  Washington.  He  laughed  at  that — turned 
to  his  table  and  wrote  a  note  to  the  Surgeon-General,  and 
gave  me.  It  said  :  '  You  see  her  and  hear  her  talk,  and 
if  you  have  no  objection,  tell  the  Secretary  I  should  like 
him  to  give  her  a  pass.' " 

"  See  her  and  hear  her  talk  !"  thought  Theodora.  "  He 
knew  what  that  meant !     No  man  could  withstand  her !" 

"  So  I  went  to  see  the  Surgeon-General  and  Secretary, 
armed  with  my  note,  and  the  result  of  it  was  that  the 
next  day  my  friend  Mrs.  Murray  and  I  were  settled  at 
the  Lacy  House,  right  opposite  Fredricksburg.  From  the 
piazza,  we  could  see  the  crossing  of  the  army  and  all  the 
movements  of  troops.  It  was  a  magnificent  sight,  I  can 
teU  you — that  great  army  pouring  past  from  morning 
till  night,  all  day,  Thursday  and  Friday.  They  shook  the 
ground  with  their  steady  tread,  and  they  looked  as  if 
nothing  on  earth  could  withstand  them.  Saturday  mom- 
14 


314  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STORY. 

ing,  tlie  artillery  from  the  other  side  came  roaring  through 
the  fog,  and  we  knew  it  had  begun.  About  eleven 
o'clock,  the  fog  lifted,  and  then  we  could  see  the  grand 
charges  our  trooj)S  made.  It  seemed  as  if  they  must 
carry  everything  before  them.  Then  we  would  see  the 
brave  fellows  melting  away  under  those  murderous  tires 
— close  up  their  ranks  and  slowly  retreat.  Ah ! "  said 
she,  closing  her  beautiful  eyes  with  a  shudder,  "  that  was 
anguish !" 

"  But  you  saw  it  to  the  end  ?"  said  Theodora,  wishing 
to  hear  all. 

"  Oh,  dear,  yes ;  till  they  began  to  bring  over  the 
wounded,  and  then  we  had  our  hands  and  hearts  full 
enough,  I  assure  you.     Ugh !  such  ugly  sights !" 

"  Were  you  sorry  you  went  ?" 

"  No,  oh,  no.  When  I  saw  how  sui-prised  and  pleased 
the  poor  fellows  were  to  find  a  woman  nursing  them,  I 
was  thankful  to  be  there.  I  shall  never  forget  one  poor 
lieutenant — why,  child,  how  your  eyes  devour  me !  Can't 
they  wait  for  your  ears  ?  It's  nothing  much  any^vay, 
only  I  can  see,  this  moment,  as  plainly  as  I  did  at  the 
time,  that  look.  The  surgeon  was  dressing  a  wound  in 
the  throat  of  this  lieutenant — ^liis  assistant  was  a  great 
brute,  and  I  could  see  his  blundering  fingers  were  tor- 
turing the  young  man,  so  I  offered  my  services  instead. 
The  lieutenant  could  hardly  speak,  but  he  lifted  to  my 
face  the  most  eloquent  pair  of  brown  eyes  I  ever  saw  in 
my  life ;  and  when  we  were  done,  he  kissed  my  hand 
stained  with  his  own  blood,  and  said  with  a  great  effort 
— '  Kind  as  my  sister's  hand.' " 

Theodora  was  trembhng  so,  that  she  could  hardly  ask, 
steadily : 

"  Did  he  live  ?" 


NO    NEWS.  315 

"  Oh,  dear,  no  !  It  was  a  dreadful  wound — I  suppose 
the  spinal  cord  was  injured.  He  went  delirious  very 
soon,  and  it  was  pitiful  to  hear  him.  One  moment  he 
would  think  he  was  at  home,  and  such  gleams  of  happi- 
ness would  dart  into  his  eyes,  and  then  he  would  look  so 
distressed.'' 

"  Did  you  find  out  who  he  was.?" 

"  No  ;  I  tried  hard,"  for  I  knew  by  the  looks  of  him  he 
was  somebody's  darling;  but  there  was  no  clue  at  all. 
Some  miscreant  had  stripped  his  pockets,  probably,  as  he 
lay  on  the  field,  for  they  were  entirely  empty,  and  one 
of  them  turned  inside  out." 

"  Didn't  he  call  any  names  in  his  delirium  ? "  asked 
Theodora,  her  throat  so  dry  she  could  hardly  speak. 

"  ISTot  that  I  could  make  out.  I  could  understand 
'father'  and  'mother'  once  in  a  while,  but  you  see  this 
wound  in  the  throat  grew  inflamed  very  fast,  and  his 
constant  effort  to  talk  made  it  a  great  deal  worse.  Then, 
of  course,  I  could  stay  by  him  only  a  few  minutes  at  a 
time,  there  were  so  many  of  them.  Why,  there  was  a 
little  drummer  boy — " 

"  Excuse  me — one  moment,  please.  "Won't  you  de- 
scribe to  me  how  this  lieutenant  looked  ?" 

"  I  do  believe  I  have  got  you  in  love  with  my  poor 
dead  lieutenant !  He  had  a  beautiful  head — not  so  very 
large,  but  made  for  noble  things — I  am  a  bit  of  a  phre- 
nologist, you  must  know.  Then  his  face — I  don't  know 
how  I  can  describe  it  to  you — only  it  was  a  refined,  high- 
toned  face,  pale  as  death  then,  of  course,  but  lit  up  with 
those  wonderful  brown  eyes.'' 

"  And  his  hair?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  had  a  mass  of  hair  a  shade  or  two  darker 
than  his  eyes — a  little  curly,  I  think  it  was." 


IIG  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 


"  You  fire  good  to  remember." 


"An  artist's  wife  learns  to  notice  such  thing.  In  fact, 
I  have  dabbled  in  painting,  myself.  I  should  have  liked 
that  head  for  a  study.  Speaking  of  his  hair  reminds  me : 
when  he  died  I  thought  I  might  yet  find  out  who  he  was, 
and  I  would  cut  a  lock  of  his  hair  for  his  mother,  if  I 
should  ever  find  her." 

"  Could  1  any  way  see  it — the  lock  of  hair  ?  " 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  I  had  it  still  in  the  pocket  of 
my  portmonnaie,  where  I  put  it  that  niglit.  I  haven't 
thought  of  it  since."  She  unclasped  an  inner  compart- 
ment, and  among  sundry  little  souvenii-s  found  a  folded 
scrap  torn  from  the  margin  of  a  newspaper. 

"I  thnik  it  is  in  that;  yes.  Why,  my  dear  girl,  how 
pale  you  look !  Are  you  sick,  or  have  I  told  you  too 
many  of  my  dismal  stories  V 

"  Oh,  it's  nothing,  madam,"  said  Theodora,  trying 
to  smile. 

The  tress  of  hair  was  just  the  color  of  Donald's — 
brown,  almost  black  ;  still  it  did  not  seem  (juite  like  his. 
She  thought  it  was  not  so  fine  and  soft.  Still  all  the  de- 
scription seemed  so  like  him  that  her  heart  fainted  with- 
in her. 

If  he  had  been  carried  from  the  field  that  first  night, 
and  died  among  strangers,  the  chaplain's  fruitless  search 
was  accounted  for. 

She  told  her  new  acquaintance  the  little  she  knew 
about  her  brother's  history  on  that  fatal  field,  and  they 
compared  notes  as  carefully  as  they  could.  There  was 
uothius  which  mio-ht  not  be  a  mere  coincidence — still 
nothing  which  made  it  improbable  that  Donald  was  the 
young  ofiicer  who  died  holding  this  stranger's  hand,  try- 
ing to  say  what  she  could  not  possibly  understand.    Theo- 


NO   NEWS.  317 

dora  begged  tlie  lock  of  liair  that  she  might  compare  it 
with  one  her  mother  had. 

"  Yes ;  you  might  as  well  have  it,"  said  Mrs.  Arden. 
"  I  shall  not  be  likely  to  meet  any  of  his  friends  unless 
it  was  your  brother.  How  strange  that  I  should  have 
cut  that  hair  for  you,  and  you  shoidd  have  been  sent  to 
me  here !" 

Theodora  winced  under  that ;  she  did  not  admit  to 
herself  that  it  was  Donald ;  but  she  said,  "  If  it  was  not 
he,  it  may  have  been  some  one  just  as  dear  to  some  home, 
and  just  as  full  of  promise." 

"  Yes,  indeed.  We  are  losing  hundreds  of  princely 
young  spirits  the  future  cannot  well  spare." 

"  How  did  the  army  bear  their  repulse  ?" 

"  Like  men ;  they  came  back  battered  and  saddened, 
but  unbroken  in  spirit." 

In  Kew  York,  Theodora  lost  her  interesting  com- 
panion. She  thanked  her  earnestly  for  her  kind  care  of 
the  dying,  whether  her  own  was  among  them  or  not,  and 
promised  to  write  her  if  they  ever  learned  of  Donald's  fate. 

It  was  a  sadly  tender  meeting  at  home.  When  she 
told  the  story  of  her  talk  with  the  lady -nurse,  she  found 
her  father  settled  upon  it  as  altogether  probable  that  the 
d}dng  lieutenant  she  had  described  and  their  lost  Donald 
were  one. 

Faith  added  as  evidence,  "You  know,  Theodora,  he 
always  wanted  your  hands  about  him  when  he  had  a 
headache ;  that  little  remark  about  his  sister's  hand  seems 
like  him." 

"  Yes,  but  for  that  very  reason  that  I  always  soothed 
his  head  when  anything  ailed  him,  I  know  the  very  feel- 
ing of  his  hair,  and  this  does  not  seem  like  it,  to  me.  It 
is  not  so  soft.'' 


318  THEODORA  :    A    HOME   STOET. 

The  motlier  brought  out  from  her  treasures  a  little 
lock,  cut  from  her  dear  boy's  head  the  night  before  he 
went  away.  She  and  .Theodora  thought  there  was  a  dif- 
ference. Mr.  Cameron,  Faith,  and  Jessie  could  not  de- 
tect any.  So  they  were  kept  in  harrowing  uncertainty. 
A  brave  and  trusting  soul  can  learn  to  bear  almost  any- 
thing ;  but  when  it  knows  not  which  of  awful  calamities 
has  befallen  it,  it  has  to  bear  them  all  at  once. 

"  To  fear  is  harder  than  to  weep; 
To  watch,  than  to  endure ; 
The  hardest  of  all  griefs  to  bear 
Is  a  grief  that  is  not  sure." 

If  they  thought  of  him  as  in  heaven,  and  began  to 
comfort  themselves  with  his  blessedness,  there  broke  in 
upon  them  the  possibility  that  he  was  at  that  moment 
suffering  the  long-drawn  hoiTors  of  starvation.  If  they 
believed  for  a  moment  that  he  was  a  prisoner,  and  might 
yet  be  given  back  to  life  and  to  them,  there  would  shut 
down  upon  them  the  likelihood  that  they  should  never 
see  him  again  till  the  grave  should  give  up  its  dead. 

One  day,  about  a  week  after  Theodora  reached  home, 
little  Minnie  Larabee  came  running  in,  panting,  with  the 
new§ :  "  My  papa  has  got  home,  and  he  goes  on  a  crutch, 
and  his  arm  is  in  a  string,  and  he  wants  you  to  come 
right  straight  down,  all  of  you,  so  he  can  tell  you  all 
about  Donald ;  and  so  does  mamma  too." 

How  much  might  this  mean?  In  five  minutes  they 
were  all  on  their  way.  They  found  the  Larabee  family 
beaming  with  happiness,  though  their  soldier  had  a 
broken  arm  in  a  sling  and  a  bullet-hole  below  the  knee. 

After  the  first  warm  greetings,  when  they  were  all 
gathered  close  around  him,  he  said :  "  It  isn't  anything 


NO   NEWS.  319 

new  I  can  tell  about  jour  son,  Mr.  Cameron"  (a  hope  that 
had  flashed  up  in  theii'  hearts  died  down) ;  "  but  I  knew 
you  would  want  to  know  everything  I  could  tell  about 
Donald  up  to  the  last  I  saw  of  him.  I  didn't  know  how 
much  they  had  written  you.'' 

"  You  are  very  kind  to  think  of  us  so  soon." 

"  There  has  been  hardly  an  hour  that  I  haven't  thought 
of  you,"  said  the  color-sergeant,  with  a  sigh.  "  If  I  had 
an  own  brother,  I  don't  see  how  I  could  think  any  more 
of  him  than  I  do  of  Donald." 

Theodora  blessed  him  for  saying  "  do."  He  did  not 
dismiss  him  among  the  dead. 

"Were  you  near  him  as  late  as  any  one  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Cameron. 

"  Tes,  ma'am.  I  will  tell  you  how  it  was :  I  suppose 
you  know  the  captain  was  severely  wounded  when  we 
first  went  in,  so  that  Lieutenant  Cameron  had  command 
of  the  company  all  day.  Kobody  could  have  done  better. 
He  seemed  to  put  mettle  into  us  all.  Along  about  sun- 
down, our  regiment  was  ordered  to  charge  a  battery  that 
had  been  bothering  us  badly.  Our  men  started  at  double- 
quick,  with  a  cheer ;  but,  you  see,  the  thing  had  been 
tiied  again  and  again,  and  the  ground  before  that  battery 
was  strewed  so  thick  with  the  dead  and  wounded  that  it 
staggered  them — ^good  soldiers,  too,  as  ever  carried  a 
musket.  It  wasn't  so  much  the  enemy's  cannon,  but  go- 
ing over  all  that  to  get  at  them.  It  was  sort  of  ghastly, 
you  know.  But  the  lientenant  he  sprang  forward  of  us 
and  waved  his  sword  towards  the  dead,  and  sung  out : 
'  Do  it  for  them,  boys ! '  At  that,  they  gave  a  yell,  and 
dashed  forward  with  such  a  sudden  fury  that  we  earned 
the  battery.  But  every  one  of  the  color-guard  fell 
around  me,  and,  just  as  we  sprang  over  the  parapet,  a 


320  THEODOKA  '.   A   UOME   6T0ET. 

ball  struck  me  just  below  the  shoulder  here  and  broke 
my  arm.  It  came  so  suddenly,  that  I  almost  dropped 
the  flag ;  but  Lieutenant  Cameron  saw  it — he  saw  every- 
thing— and  caught  it  just  in  time  to  save  it.  He  sprang 
up  on  one  of  the  big  guns,  and  waved  it,  and  the  boys 
gave  a  tremendous  cheer.  Just  then  the  Johnnies  came 
down  upon  us,  like  a  land-slide,  three  to  our  one,  and 
drove  us  out  of  the  battery  about  as  quick  as  we  had 
driven  them  out.  I  was  anxious  about  the  flag,  and  kept 
close  watch  of  that.  I  saw  them  close  round  the  lieuten 
ant,  and  I  thought,  '  They've  got  it,  sure ! ' " 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Larabee !  did  you  care  more  for  that  than 
for  him  ? " 

"  Why,  no,  Mrs.  Cameron ;  but,  you  know,  the  flag 
was  my  charge ;  and,  besides,  I  thought  they  were  sure 
to  go  together — it  and  he.  But  they  didn't ;  for,  as  soon 
as  he  saw  the  rebs  all  around  him — it  was  all  in  a  min- 
ute— he  wrapped  the  colors  around  the  staff,  and  gave  it 
a  fling,  right  over  their  heads,  in  among  us,  and  shouted 
out :  '  Take  care  of  that,  boys ! '  A  dozen  hands  caught 
at  it,  and  we  brought  it  off  safe." 

"  But  my  poor  boy  ? "  asked  the  mother,  with  pale  hps. 

"  That  was  the  last  we  saw  of  him,"  answered  the  sol- 
dier, gently. 

"  Could  nothing  be  done  but  just  leave  him  there  alone 
among  his  enemies  ? "  asked  Mr.  Cameron. 

"  What  could  we  do,  sir  ?  They  W' ere  coming  down 
upon  us,  from  higher  ground,  like  a  tornado ;  and  then  a 
battery  from  the  left  was  trained  upon  us,  so  as  to  give 
us  an  enfilading  fire.  It  was  a  perfect  hell !  The  regi- 
ment was  ordered  to  fall  back ;  and  what  else  could  we 
do  ?  I  am  sure,  if  there  was  a  man  on  that  field  that  we 
would  have  died  for — some  of  us — it  was  he." 


NO   NEWS.  321 

"  No — I  see  you  could  do  nothing  for  him,"  said  the 
father,  with  a  groan.  "  You  have  been  a  kind,  faithful 
friend  to  him,  Mr.  Larabee ;  he  often  spoke  of  it  in  his 
letters,  and  we  shall  always  be  thankful  to  you.'' 

"  Oh,  that's  nothing !     I  couldn't  help  it." 

"  TeU  us  your  thoughts,  Theodora ;  you  look  as  if  you 
could  see  the  silver  lining  of  the  cloud,"  said  Mrs.  Lar- 
abee. 

"I  do.  I  feel  sure  from  Mr.  Larabee's  story  that 
Donald  is  alive." 

"  Wouldn't  they  Mil  him  if  they  took  him  that  way  ?" 
asked  Jessie,  who  was  sitting  on  a  low  stool  at  the  sol- 
dier's feet,  looking  earnestly  into  his  face. 

"  I  think  not.  They  wouldn't,  unless  he  defended  him- 
self, and  it  would  be  madness  to  do  that,  in  the  circum- 
stances." 

"  Wouldn't  they  be  wrathy  because  he  saved  the  flag 
from  them  ?"  asked  Faith. 

"  Yes ;  but  they  would  like  him  for  it  too.  One  sol- 
dier respects  a  gallant  act  in  another  soldier,  if  he  is  an 
enemy.  It  is  true  they  might  be  so  provoked  to  have 
him  snatch  the  colors  out  of  their  very  hands,  as  it  were, 
as  to  shoot  him  on  the  spot ;  but  it  is  more  likely,  in  my 
opinion,  that  he  is  a  prisoner." 


XXV. 

AT     HOME. 

IT  was  three  years  since  Theodora  had  been  at  home 
before,  except  on  short  visits.  The  last  night  of 
1862,  she  sat  by  the  study  lire  after  all  the  rest  had  gone 
to  bed,  planning  how  she  could  make  her  new  year 
worth  the  most. 

Any  one  who  has  the  good  fortune  to  belong  to  a  large 
family,  knows  what  a  zeal  for  improvements  the  children 
bring  home  from  their  absence. 

Coming  with  a  fresh  breeze  from  the  outer  world,  it 
seems  easy  to  them  to  change  things  which  have  been 
accepted  as  necessary  evils.  The  first  thing  this  young 
lady  settled  in  her  wisdom  was,  that  Faith  ought  to  go 
away  from  home  for  a  while.  She  had  just  finished  her 
school-days  at  the  village  academy,  and  had  taught  a  dis- 
trict school,  near  by,  through  the  Summer, 

Faith  was  a  born  Radical.  She  went  to  the  root  of 
things,  and  if  once  satisfied  that  the  root  was  good,  she 
took  what  grew  from  it,  bitter  or  sweet.  Compromise 
was  not  in  her  vocabulary.  Her  conscience  knew  no 
middle-ground  between  right  and  wrong.  Her  will  held 
her  up  to  the  demands  of  conscience  without  flinching. 
She  was  naturally  proud,  but  rather  self -depreciating  than 
conceited.  She  spoke  the  truth  without  fear  or  favor. 
Theodora  was  over- sensitive  to  the  opinions  of  other  peo- 
ple. She  loved  to  please  them  ;  to  be  blamed  made  her 
feel  as  if  she  was  to  blame  ;  that  might  be  partly  due  to 
(322) 


AT   HOME.  323 

tlie  fact,  that  in  cMldhood  slie  had  ahnost  never  been 
blamed  unless  she  deserved  it.  Yet  Faith,  who  had  had 
the  same  training,  if  she  fell  under  censure,  sifted  the 
matter  carefully,  and  if  she  found  no  wrong  in  her  own 
motives  or  conduct,  cared  nothing  further  abont  it.  Her 
sturdy  following  of  principles  to  their  last  extremes,  and 
her  brusque  trutlif  ulness  made  her  less  popular  than  any 
of  her  family.  People  called  her  "odd,"  and  "queer," 
though  a  few  predicted  she  would  "  make  a  splendid 
woman."  Her  pungent  sayings  and  peculiar  doings  were 
remembered,  and  reported  in  the  parish,  however,  longer 
than  the  more  agreeable  and  ordinary  words  and  deeds  of 
her  brothers  and  sisters.  For  instance,  it  pleased  people 
as  much  as  it  shocked  them  to  find  out  from  the  man 
himself,  that  when  she  joined  the  church  at  fourteen 
years  old,  and  found  herself  bound  by  her  vows  to  watch 
over  her  brethren  and  sisters,  she  had  gone  privately  to 
Brother  Grimes  and  dealt  with  him,  Bible  in  hand,  on 
his  sin  of  covetousness,  which,  she  informed  him,  was  the 
same  thing  which  folks  called  stinginess  when  they  talked 
of  him. 

I^^ow  Theodora  thought,  as  she  meditated  in  the  night- 
watches,  that  the  Scotch  granite  of  this  younger  sister's 
character  would  take  a  beautiful  polish  if  it  could  be  rub- 
bed down  by  other  people's  opinions,  wishes,  and  habits. 
H  she  conld  keep  all  her  strength,  and  fearless  truth  wliile 
she  gained  more  deference  for  others,  she  would  make  a 
woman  of  rare  power.  It  would  be  the  best  thing,  if 
she  conld  be  with  Miriam  in  the  school  at  Downington 
for  a  year  or  two.  She  could  be  spared  from  home,  since 
she  had  come ;  how  to  raise  the  money  was  the  chronic 
difficulty. 

She  wrote  Miriam  about  it,  before  she  went  to  sleep, 


324  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STOKY. 

asking  her  opinion.  Miriam  answered  promptly,  offer- 
ing to  pay  half  the  bills  out  of  her  salary  if  the  other 
half  could  be  provided  for.  Then  she  talked  it  over  with 
the  father  and  mother,  and  Faith  herseK.  The  result 
was,  that  Faith  insisted  on  hiring  the  money  on  a  hfe  in- 
surance secunty,  intending  to  pay  it  when  she  could  earn 
it.  Deacon  Perley  was  willing  to  lend  it  to  her  in  that 
way.  Her  district-school  money  would  help  so  far  as  it 
went,  but  that  was  a  very  little  way.  Theodora  came 
near  losing  patience  with  the  child  on  the  wardrobe  ques- 
tion. If  clothes  were  whole  and  clean,  and  waiTn,  that 
was  enough,  according  to  Faith's  severe  reasoning.  The 
older  sister  had  an  inordinate  love  of  pretty  things.  The 
mother,  though  poor  in  purse,  was  rich  in  skill  and  taste, 
and  she  did  not  want  her  child  to  look  meagerly  or  oddly 
clad  among  the  rest.  Faith  had  a  plain  face,  and  needed 
some  taste  in  dress  to  make  her  pleasing  to  the  eyes. 
They  had  some  lively  discussions  over  it.  Theodora 
made  Faith  admit  the  utility  of  beauty,  and  Faith  made 
Theodora  ashamed  that  she  was  apt  to  allow  fashion  too 
large  a  share  in  making  up  her  idea  of  beauty.  By  dint 
of  diligence  and  ingenuity,  the  mother  and  older  sister 

*'  Gar  auld  claes  look  amaist  as  weel's  the  new," 

and  make  one  new  dress,  which  harmonizes  in  itself 
their  respect  for  the  ways  of  the  world  with  Faith's  re- 
lentless "  sense." 

The  busy  excitement  of  getting  this  child  ready  and 
sending  her  off  was  a  wholesome  diversion  from  the  ever- 
present  anxiety  about  the  lost  brother.  Wlien  Faith  was 
gone,  and  things  settled  into  their  regular  channels  again, 
Theodora  felt  that  her  mother  must  be  her  next  care. 
She  was  much  worn  with  work  and  son'ow.    The  dauo^hter 


AT   HOME.  325 

seemed  to  be  inspired  with  an  ardent  desire  to  learn 
housekeeping  ;  after  much  coaxing,  she  persuaded  her 
mother  to  "  play  lady,"  and  let  her  take  the  housekeep- 
ing. She  never  should  leam  to  be  independent  if  she  was 
right  around  with  her  all  the  time  !  The  mother  might 
keep  the  front  part  of  the  house  in  order,  but  not  come 
into  the  kitchen  between  breakfast  and  dinner.  With 
only  four  in  the  family,  it  was  a  capital  time  to  learn ! 
Jessie  should  help  all  she  could,  out  of  school  hours. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  tell  which  was  the  hardest — 
for  Theodora  to  fulfil  her  part  of  the  contract,  or  the 
mother  hers.  The  girl  was  surprised  to  find  how  much 
more  housework  tired  her  than  it  used  to,  when  she  was 
in  the  habit  of  doing  it.  After  being  quite  out  of  the 
way  of  it  for  three  years,  although  she  was  healthy  and 
strong,  her  muscles  had  to  leani  hardness  and  endurance 
all  over  again.  "Wlien  the  work  was  done,  her  feet  ached 
with  weariness  more  than  as  if  she  had  walked  six  or  eiorht 
miles.  Then  she  was  amazed  at  the  multiplicity  of  cares 
in  housekeeping.      She  wi'ote  Miriam,  one  of  those  days : 

"  I  look  with  reverence  on  every  woman  I  meet  that  is 
a  good  housekeeper.     It  requires  more  of 

*'  *  The  reason  firm,  the  temperate  will, 

Endurance,  foresight,  strength,  and  skill,' 

than  it  does  to  be  Governor  of  a  State,  I  am  quite  sm'e. 
I  am  all  the  time  afraid  I  shall  make  some  bhmder  so 
outrageous  that  mother  will  not  dare  leave  me  to  my  own 
devices  any  longer.  So  far,  I  hold  my  own  pretty  well, 
but  there  isn't  a  morning  that  she  doesn't  put  her  head 
into  the  kitchen  to  suggest  that  it  is  time  to  put  the  meat 
in  the  oven,  or  it  is  the  day  to  make  yeast,  or  something 
of  the  kind." 


326  THEODOEA  :    A   HOME    STOEY. 

In  those  quiet  Winter  days,  when  tlie  silent  snow  lay 
all  around  the  house,  and  the  father  was  in  the  study,  and 
Jessie  at  school,  Mrs.  Cameron  and  Theodora  often  sat 
together  alone  for  hours,  sewing  and  talking. 

The  mother's  heart,  like  a  bird  whose  nest  has  been 
robbed,  was  always  fluttering  about  the  fate  of  her  lost 
child.  To  beguile  her  from  that  thought,  the  daughter 
talked  of  everything  that  interested  either  of  them.  There 
was  hardly  a  person  she  had  known,  or  a  place  where  she 
had  been  during  her  three  years'  absence,  that  she  did  not 
make  as  real  to  her  mother  as  it  was  to  herself.  A  true 
mother  lives  as  many  lives  as  she  has  children.  With 
each,  she  feels  afresh  the  hopes  and  fears  long  since  laid 
to  rest  for  herself.  As  the  girl  told  so  frankly  all  the 
experiences  of  her  New  York  and  Virginia  life,  her 
mother  entered  into  it  all,  feeling  for  her  whatever  she 
had  felt,  and  noting  with  unspoken  thankfulness,  the 
while,  how  the  training  and  principles  of  home  had 
followed  her,  and  how  her  character  had  gained  in  breadth 
and  poise  through  the  discipline  of  life. 

Still  every  road  seemed  to  lead  back  to  the  field  of 
Fredricksburg. 

Then  Theodora  would  win  her  mother,  somehow,  into 
talking  of  her  own  youth,  till,  wandering  off  into  the 
sunny  past,  she  would  lose  sight  of  the  shadow  on  the 
present.  Those  recollections  were  full  of  interest  and 
meaning  for  her  listener. 

When  we  are  children,  we  take  our  fathers  and  mothers 
as  something  ready-made  and  let  down  out  of  heaven. 
That  they  should  have  inexhaustible  patience  and  kind- 
ness, is  a  matter  of  coarse.  It  is  not  till  we  come  to 
maturity  that  we  understand  how  even  their  goodness 
grew  up  by  patient  continuance  in  well-doing ;  how  they 


AT    HOME.  327 

who  have  always  been  giving  us  out  of  their  fulness  are 
not  beyond  feeling  the  hunger  and  thirst  of  the  heart 
for  themselves.  Then  our  greedy  clamor  for  succor  and 
boundless  forbearance  turns  to  a  tender  and  reverent 
ministry.  "We  wake  to  see  that  we  have  been  drinking 
in  their  faithful  love  and  care,  as  thanklessly  as  the 
brown  Spring  mould  absorbs  the  sunshine  and  rain ; 
and  we  yearn  to  give  it  back  in  the  fragrant  gi-atitude  of 
om*  Summer,  and  the  golden  fruitage  of  our  Autumn. 

Dearly  as  this  child  had  always  loved  her  mother,  she 
felt  as  if  she  had  never  known  her  till  in  those  long,  con- 
hding  talks  she  had  been  allowed  to  go  back  with  her  to 
her  girlhood,  and  see  how  she  had  grown  to  be  what  she  was. 

Four  o'clock  p.  m.  brought  the  mail.  Every  day  they 
charged  themselves  not  to  expect  anything  from  Donald, 
yet  every  day  they  were  disappointed.  Precious  letters 
came  from  the  other  children,  but  not  one  little  word 
from  him. 

Robert's  letters  always  brightened  the  day,  and  they 
had  come  of tener  since  this  trouble  had  hung  over  them. 
He  seemed  sure  that  his  lost  brother  could  be,  would  be 
found,  and  they  all  felt  more  hopeful  for  a  few  hours 
after  reading  one  of  his  letters.  His  mother  always 
carried  the  last  in  her  pocket.  For  himself,  he  was  full 
of  corn-age  and  good  cheer.  He  was  proud  of  his  Gen- 
eral, proud  of  his  men,  proud  to  be  one  of  the  Sons  of 
the  West,  so  resolutely  working  and  fighting  to  make 
their  Great  River  again  a  bond  of  the  Union,  As  for 
himself  personally,  they  never  would  have  known  whether 
he  was  doing  well  or  ill  for  all  he  said  about  it.  But  the 
letters  his  wife  occasionally  wrote  them,  after  relating  the 
exploits  of  her  baby,  were  filled  with  his  father's  capacity 
and  bravery,  and  sometimes  his  promotion. 


328  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STORY. 

Id  the  long  Winter  evenings,  tliey  all  sat  together 
while  the  father  read  aloud.  Different  as  they  were 
from  the  old  times  when  such  a  merry  circle  of  boys  and 
girls  were  laughing  and  talking  with  their  books  and 
work  about  the  sitting-room  table,  those  evenings  were 
very  sweet  to  Theodora.  The  home-feeling  never  comes 
to  its  perfection  as  when  the  moat  and  the  warder  of 
snow  and  wind  hold  off  the  indifferent  world,  and 
every  face  you  can  look  upon  is  one  of  those  you  love 
best. 

Some  work  for  the  Soldier's  Aid  Society  was  always 
in  the  basket  on  the  table,  and  whatever  time  the  mother 
and  daughters  could  spare  from  the  family  sewing  was 
given  to  that.  Patriotism  attained  a  triumph  when  Jessie 
laid  aside  the  crochetting  of  a  cologne-stand,  to  learn  to 
knit  a  coarse  aiTuy  sock. 

One  of  those  evenings,  when  Mr.  Cameron  was  reading 
the  news  to  them,  while  they  worked,  he  began  a  letter 
from  some  correspondent  near  the  seat  of  war,  but  broke 
off  abruptly,  read  two  or  three  items  of  European  intelli- 
gence, and  then  left  them,  to  go  to  his  study. 

Mrs.  Cameron  was  so  busy  teaching  Jessie  how  to  "  set 
the  heel "  of  her  sock — a  mystery  she  had  no  curiosity  to 
understand — that  she  did  not  notice  it;  but  Theodora 
saw  that  he  looked  distressed,  and  followed  him.  He  was 
sitting  with  his  head  bowed  on  his  arms,  folded  on  the  table 
before  him.  He  raised  it  as  she  came  near,  and  his  face 
showed  such  anguish  as  she  had  never  seen  there  before. 
She  thought  he  must  have  read  something  about  Donald, 
but  her  first  longing  was  to  comfort  him.  Without  speak- 
ing, she  drew  his  head  to  her  bosom,  and  laid  her  cheek 
on  his  dear  grey  hair.  He  threw  his  arms  around  her, 
and  hugged  her  hard.     The  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes,  for 


AT   HOME.  329 

tis  embraces  were  rare  and  full  of  meaning.  Then  lie 
pointed  to  a  paragraph,  saying  : 

"  Don't  let  jom-  mother  see  it." 

The  newspaper  correspondent  was  describing  the  return 
of  a  company  of  exchanged  prisoners,  and  he  had  spared 
no  pains  to  set  forth  "  The  sunken,  hollow  cheeks — the 
parchment  skin,  drawn  tightly  over  the  bones — the  filthy 
I'ags,  swarming  with  vermin — the  great,  cavernous,  lack- 
luster eyes — the  haK-idiotic  stare — the  dreamy  condition 
— the  loss  of  memory,  even  of  their  own  names — the 
wonder  with  which  they  regarded  the  most  ordinary 
events." 

"  We  must  try  to  hope  he  is  dead,  my  child.  It  would 
be  far  better  than  this.     My  son  !  my  son  !  " 

His  head  dropped  again  upon  his  arms,  and  she  could 
only  lay  hers  beside, it  and  weep.  Then  she  thought  her 
mother  would  miss  them — went  to  her  room  and  bathed 
her  eyes  and  went  downstairs  again. 

At  prayers  that  night  the  chapter  was — "  I  was  ahun- 
gered,  sick,  and  in  prison,"  and  the  suffering  father  laid 
his  lost  boy  once  more  upon  the  sympathy  of  the  Son  of 
God,  who  said,  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it  unto  one  of  the 
least  of  my  disciples  ye  did  it  unto  me." 

Though  the  mother's  eyes  were  spared  that  letter,  the 
newspapers  were  constantly  bringing  harrowing  accounts 
of  the  captured  soldiers,  and  many  a  time  she  turned 
away  from  the  table  unable  to  taste  food  for  the  thought 
that  her  Donald  might,  at  that  moment,  be  dying  of 
hunger. 

It  was  touching  to  Mr.  Cameron's  people  to  trace  in 
his  sermons,  that  Winter,  the  progress  of  his  own  soul  in 
that  victory  which  overcometh  the  world.  His  was  one 
of  those  natm-es  which  can  better  bear  an  agony  of  defi- 


330  TnEODORA :  a  home  stokt. 

nite  pain  than  the  slow  torture  of  long  suspense.  But 
this  was  the  discipline  appointed  bj  the  Great  Refiner. 
His  faith  grappled  with  the  task  set  before  it,  and  grew 
in  strength  till  he  could  leave  the  son  of  his  love  in  the 
hands  of  the  Eternal,  not  knowing  what  had  befallen  him 
there,  and  say,  "  Though  He  slay  me,  yet  will  I  ti-ust  in 
Hun." 

A  minister  can  never  gain  a  spiritual  triumph  for  him- 
self alone.  Unconsciously  he  echoes  to  his  people, 
struggling  through  the  same  "  fight  of  afflictions,"  the 
M'ords  of  liis  Master,  "  Be  of  good  cheer,  I  have  over- 
come the  world."  So  it  was  that  the  sad  mystery  of 
Donald  Cameron's  fate  became  a  means  of  blessing  to  his 
native  village.  It  was  a  time  of  sorrow  and  fear  to  many, 
and  the  pastor  comforted  them  with  that  same  comfort 
wherewith  he  was  comforted  of  God. 

To  "  little  Jessie,"  as  she  was  still  called,  though  she 
was  now  fourteen  years  old,  Theodora's  home-coming  was 
a  God-send.  Just  at  that  period  no  one  could  have  had 
so  much  power  over  her.  Often  when  a  girl  reaches  that 
transition  line  where  the  child  and  the  woman  meet,  an 
older  sister  is  needed  to  supplement  the  mothei*'s  work. 
To  Mi's.  Cameron,  weary  with  the  long  march,  it  was  a 
great  relief  to  turn  over  the  care  of  the  last  child  to  this 
fresh  young  spirit  which  took  such  strong  hold  upon  her. 

Perhaps  of  the  four  girls,  this  youngest  was  most  fitted 
to  wear  upon  a  mother's  patience.  There  was  nothing 
peculiar  about  her,  but  she  was  one  of  those  girls  who  can 
spend  two  hours  exquisitely  arranging  a  basket  of  flowers, 
while  the  breakfast  dishes  wait  to  be  washed ;  enjoy  em- 
broidery while  there  are  holes  in  their  elbows ;  read  a 
story  "  while  the  flat-irons  are  heating,"  and  go  on  read- 
ing it  till  they  are  cool  again  ;  one  of  those  girls  who  are 


AT   HOME.  331 

always  just  "  going  to  "  do  tlie  needed  tiling.  Strangers 
who  looked  in  her  face  of  lilj  and  rose,  with  its  liquid 
eyes  and  halo  of  sunny  curls,  exclaimed :  "  What  a  sweet 
child  !  What  a  lovely  disposition  she  must  have  !"  But 
the  family  knew  very  well  that  pretty  face  was  much 
more  subject  to  clouds  than  Faith's  homely  one,  and  no- 
body ever  thought  of  calling  Faith  amiable.  It  was  only 
at  home  that  it  was  known  how  patient  and  kind  and  self- 
sacrificing  she  was.  Still  Jessie  was  very  lovable.  She 
was  a  devotee  to  any  one  she  loved — romantic,  imagina- 
tive— a  lover  of  beauty  in  every  form.  To  Theodora  it 
belonged  to  show  her  the  beauty  of  humble,  every-day 
fidelity.  Miiiam  was  fond  of  her,  and  sent  her  valuable 
presents,  but  she  was  more  self-contained  and  reserved, 
so  that  Jessie  did  not  feel  quite  free  with  her ;  besides, 
Miriam  always  treated  her  as  if  she  was  just  a  little  girl, 
and  she  was  fourteen  years  old  !  Theodora  had  the  tact' 
to  keep  just  abreast  with  her  growth.  As  for  Faith,  she 
was  too  severe  with  her  faults  and  'follies,  and  her  stric- 
tures did  not  tell  upon  her  much,  because  Jessie  thought 
she  did  not  appreciate  such  things  as  she  delighted  in. 
But  this  older  sister  seemed  to  like  everything  she  liked, 
seemed  to  understand  exactly  how  she  felt,  and  what  she 
wanted,  and  managed  to  get  for  her  a  good  many  little 
gTatifications  that  no  one  else  seemed  to  think  of  any  con- 
sequence. Meanwhile,  by  some  magical  power  of  per- 
suasion, she  won  her  into  the  very  habits  of  self-denying 
duty  that  her  mother  and  Miriam  and  Faith  were  always 
urging  upon  her.  Since  they  were  the  only  sisters  at 
home,  it  was  all  the  easier  for  Tlieodora  to  make  her  a 
companion,  and  taking  it  for  granted  that  she  wished  to 
share  her  labors  and  forestall  their  mother's  cares,  inspire 
her  with  a  real  zeal  about  it  that  should  bear  down  her 


332  Theodora:  a  home  stoey. 

dreamy,  eastle-building  listlessness  "vvitli  a  current  of 
earnest,  useful  work.  The  waking  up  to  practical  service 
at  home  told  upon  her  success  in  school.  She  had  plenty 
of  ability,  but  it  was  so  much  easier  to  sit  with  her 
head  resting  on  her  hand,  gazing  out  thi'ough  the  swaying 
branches  around  the  old  academy  and  weave  some  beauti- 
ful reverie,  than  it  was  to  force  her  powers  to  the  tng  of 
real  study,  that  she  had  never  excelled.  She  studied 
enough  to  save  herself  mortification,  and  rested  upon  the 
consciousness  that  she  could  do  better  if  she  should  try. 
But  after  toning  up  her  resolution  to  accomplish  all  she 
could,  helping  Theodora  before  school,  she  felt  more  like 
real  work  in  study.  Besides,  she  was  ambitious  to  be  ap- 
proved by  the  sister  she  admired  so  much,  and  her 
teachers  were  pleasantly  sui*prised  by  a  new  activity  of 
mind  that  Winter. 

One  thing  about  house-work  worried  Theodora.  The 
longer  she  did  it,  the  less  it  tired  her,  and  the  better  she 
understood  it ;  so  that  by  the  time  the  "Winter  was 
through  she  felt  quite  the  mistress  of  the  situation,  but  it 
was  spoiling  her  hands  for  her  profession.  She  liked  her 
hands  to  look  pretty,  but  she  would  not  have  minded  that 
if  she  had  not  been  a  pianist.  Besides,  she  found  very 
little  time  to  practice.  She  was  anxious  to  keep  up  her 
music,  and  more  than  that ;  for  this  stay  at  home  she 
considered  only  an  episode.  Her  business  was  teaching 
music,  just  as  much  as  Robert's  was  farming.  He  had 
left  his  for  an  emergency,  and  she,  hers ;  but  she  expected 
to  go  back  to  it,  and  wished  to  go  in  good  condition.  She 
loved  her  music  so  much  that  it  was  no  small  sacrifice  for 
her  to  have  time  only  to  play  some  dear  old  symphony 
to  rest  herself  when  she  was  tired  ;  and  even  in  doing  that, 
to  feel  that  her  fingers  were  forgetting  their  cunning,  and 


AT    HOME.  333 

getting  brown  and  clumsy  with  washing  pots  and  kettles 
and  going  in  and  out  of  the  oven.  She  said  to  herself  : 
"  I  wouldn't  mind  it  for  myself,  but  it's  bad  as  a  matter 
of  business,"  One  day,  Alice  and  Susy  Fenton  came  in 
to  beg  her  to  give  them  music  lessons.  She  thought  it 
over,  and  decided  that  if  she  could  find  a  girl  to  help  in  the 
kitchen  and  relieve  her  there,  so  that  she  could  get  more 
time  and  keep  in  better  condition  for  the  piano,  she  would 
do  it.  These  two  scholars  would  be  enough  to  pay  for  it. 
Her  mother  was  pleased  with  the  plan,  and  "girl-hunt- 
ing "  was  begun  at  once. 

There  are  no  "  servants "  in  Vermont,  but  there  are 
"  hired  girls."  In  some  of  its  towns,  society  has  never 
fallen  from  that  goodly  estate  which  reformers  are  striv- 
ing to  bring  the  world  back  to.  A  girl  who  is  not  needed 
at  home  is  willing  to  render  service  for  a  consideration  in 
a  family  where  she  is  needed,  even  though  that  family- 
may  be  no  better  off  and  no  higher  in  social  standing  than 
her  own.  Perhaps,  one  season  she  teaches  a  district 
school,  and  the  next — if  she  has  not  the  taste  or  the  skill 
for  managing  children — she  prefers  to  earn  her  pocket- 
money  as  ''  help  "  to  some  neighbor.  She  must  be  treated 
like  one  of  the  family,  of  course ;  and  so  far  as  intel- 
ligence, neatness,  and  manners  are  concerned,  there  is 
often  no  reason  she  should  not.  The  only  difiiculty  about 
that — except  where  a  good  deal  of  style  is  to  be  main- 
tained— is,  that  few  families  like  the  restraint  of  an  out- 
sider always  present,  and  few  girls  have  the  discretion  to 
go  into  the  very  heart  of  a  household,  listening  to  the 
freedom  of  table-talk,  and  go  out  again  without  making 
mischief. 

After  much  searching,  a  girl,  sixteen  years  old,  was 
found  in  one  of  the  families  on  the  outskirts  of  the  parish, 


334  theodopvA:  a  home  story. 

who  was  strong  and  willing  to  "  work  her  fingers  to  the 
bone,"  as  she  declared,  if  she  could  "  onlj  learn  to  plaj 
the  pianer,"  Her  father  had  bought  her  a  "serapim," 
and  took  great  pride  in  her  musical  genius,  but  she  knew 
only  what  she  had  picked  up.  So  Bloomy  Thrasher  came 
down  to  the  parsonage  to  spend  her  strength,  mornings, 
with  broom  and  scrubbing-brush ;  afternoons,  for  two 
hom's,  in  practicing  on  the  "  pianer." 

She  was  disposed  to  put  as  much  muscle  into  the  last 
occupation  as  the  first.  Aside  from  the  service  of  her 
strong  arms,  it  was  a  good  thing  for  the  Camerons  to 
hear  her  hearty  laugh  and  be  amused  at  her  shrewd,  un- 
sophisticated speeches.  When  there  is  a  great  grief  in  a 
house,  some  one  is  reall}^  needed  there  who  feels  it  only 
by  sympathy.  As  for  "  Bloomy,"  she  enjoyed  it  with  all 
her  might.  So  many  new  ideas,  so  mucli  company,  so 
many  books !  It  never  occurred  to  her  that  she  was  not 
"  as  good  as  anybody,"  because  she  was  the  "  hu-ed  girl." 
Strong  in  her  self-respect  and  the  friendship  of  the 
family,  she  got  all  the  pleasure  that  was  to  be  had  in  her 
circumstances. 

"  If  you  ever  keep  a  house  of  your  own,"  said  Mrs. 
Cameron  to  Theodora,  "  breaking  this  colt  to  harness  will 
have  been  a  good  thing  for  you.  It  is  one  thing  to  know 
how  to  do  everything  yoirrself ,  and  quite  another  to  teach 
somebody  else  and  keep  her  up  to  the  working  point.  I 
notice  a  great  many  women  fret  and  worry  and  wear 
themselves  out  with  work,  because  they  haven't  the  tact 
and  patience  to  drill  a  servant  to  do  things  well." 

"  I  am  at  my  wits'  end  with  her  sometimes ;  she  bangs 
around  so,  and  talks  so  much  and  so  loud.  But  then,  she 
is  so  good-natured  and  bright  and  tidy,  I  might  be  a  great 
deal  worse  off," 


AT   HOME.  335 

"Indeed  you  miglit.  Bloomy  has  tlie  making  of  a 
capable,  good  woman  in  her,  and  you  are  helping  her 
towards  it  every  day.  I  think  you  have  a  happy  knack, 
Theodora,  of  bringing  out  the  best  of  people." 

The  girl  dared  not  trust  herself  to  answer.  Though 
she  was  not  naturally  one  of  the  melting  sort,  she  some- 
times got  so  thoroughly  tired  now  with  the  housekeeping, 
and  the  work,  and  the  practicing,  and  the  teaching,  and 
the  managing  Jessie  and  Bloomy,  and  the  worrying  about 
Donald,  and  the  trying  to  keep  bright  for  the  sake  of  her 
father  and  mother,  that  it  took  only  a  touch  of  love  or  a 
morsel  of  praise  to  bring  the  tears. 

As  the  months  wore  away,  from  Winter  to  Spring,  and 
Spring  to  Summer,  and  all  their  efforts  failed  to  get  any 
clue  to  her  brother's  fate,  even  her  hopefulness  began  to 
flag.  With  every  exchange  of  prisoners,  their  hopes  re- 
vived, only  to  die  a  more  painful  death.  And  now  a  new 
difficulty  had  arisen.  The  Emancipation  Proclamation, 
promulgated  on  JSTew  Year's  Day,  had  been  received  with 
transports  of  rejoicing  and  of  rage.  The  enlistment  of 
black  regiments  had  soon  followed,  and  the  threat  of  the 
Richmond  powers  to  enslave  the  men  and  execute  the 
officers  of  such  troops  had  brought  the  exchange  of 
prisoners  to  a  dead-lock.  The  National  Government, 
determined  to  defend  impartially  all  its  defenders, 
refused  to  treat  of  exchange,  unless  all  taken  fighting 
under  the  Stars  and  Stripes  were  recognized  as  prisoners 
of  war,  without  regard  to  color,  and  allowed  an  equal 
chance  of  release. 

This  placed  the  Cameron s,  like  thousands  of  other 
families,  in  a  cruel  dilemma  of  feeling.  On  one  side  was 
intense  anxiety  for  their  own  "  in  durance  vile  detained  ; " 
on  the    other,   the   deep   desire   to    secure  justice    for 


336  THEODORA  '.    A    nOME    STOEY. 

tlie  race  just  coming  to  their  manhood.  The  harrassing 
fear  that  if  release  ever  came,  it  might  be  too  late, 
gnawed  their  hearts.  Theodora  could  see  that  her  father 
and  mother  were  fast  growing  old,  and  she  felt  as  if  she 
was,  too.  "When  her  spirits  sank,  so  that  she  could  no 
longer  speak  courage  to  the  rest,  the  woods  were  her 
refuge.  There  she  met  God  and  grew  strong.  It  was  so 
long  since  she  had  been  at  home  at  the  same  season  of 
the  year,  that  the  Spring  freshet,  the  first  catkins  by  the 
brooks,  the  trailing  arbutus  in  the  forest — all  the  coming 
on  of  life  and  beauty  over  the  earth,  brought  back  with 
redoubled  freshness  the  dear  old  days  when  they  had  all 
been  so  happy  together,  and  made  her  long  for  Donald 
till  it  seemed  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  One  noon- 
time, in  the  last  of  May,  when  she  found  she  had  come 
to  such  a  pass  that  she  could  not  bear  to  lift  her  eyes  to 
her  mother's  pale,  patient  face,  she  said  to  herself,  "  This 
will  never  do,  child ; "  put  on  her  hat,  and  went  off  to 
spend  the  afternoon  by  the  old  brook.  It  was  almost 
four  weeks  since  they  had  heard  from  Robert,  so  that  a 
new  fear  was  added  to  the  bitter  cup.  She  remembered 
his  bii'th-day,  when  they  four  went  up  the  brook  together. 
How  light-hearted  they  were  then !  Yes,  and  how  happy 
they  had  been  since,  and  how  much  life  had  been  worth 
to  them  all !  That  they  were  sure  of,  whatever  might 
come  in  the  future.  Already  they  had  had  enough  to 
make  life  a  blessing,  and  what  if  there  were  dark,  dread- 
ful times  now,  by-and-by  it  would  all  be  over,  and  they 
would  all  be  safe  in  Heaven  together.  She  threw  herself 
down  on  a  heap  of  last  year's  leaves,  and  slowly  the  old 
grove  sent  its  subtle  soothing  into  her  heart — the  gentle 
motions  of  young  weeds  swaying  on  their  slender  stems, 
theii-  httle  shadows  swaying  beneath  them ;  the  low  bu/z 


AT   HOME.  337 

ci  the  first  bee  of  tlie  season,  sailing  about  in  his  black 
velvet  and  gold,  eager  to  taste  the  first  sip  of  the  violets, 
yet  too  daint J  to  settle  on  any  ;  the  fiitting  shadow  of  a 
bird  flying  over  in  silence ;  the  twitteiing  hither  and 
yonder  in  the  tree-tops ;  the  rattling  tap  of  the  wood- 
pecker ;  the  harmless  little  insects  that  came  out  in  their 
new  livery  to  sun  themselves,  promenading  on  her  lap. 
She  lay  back  on  the  brown,  crisp  leaves,  with  her  hands 
clasped  behind  her  head,  and  gazed  up  through  the  fret- 
work of  half -grown  foliage,  not  yet  large  enough  to 
hide  the  beautiful  tracery  of  stems,  into  the  depths  of 
blue. 

The  love  of  God  flowed  in  upon  her  wounded  spirit 
like  oil  and  wine :  "  He  doth  not  willingly  afflict  or 
grieve  the  children  of  men."  Had  not  those  "  of  whom 
the  world  was  not  worthy ''  been  "  destitute,  afflicted, 
tormented,"  time  out  of  mind  i  "Was  not  the  great 
Captain  of  our  salvation  "  made  perfect  through  suffer- 
ing "  ?  Could  not  her  Donald,  and  she  for  him,  bear 
whatever  He  should  sufl'er  to  come  ?     After  all, 

"  What  is  life,  that  we  should  moan  ? 
Why  make  we  such  ado  ? " 

As  she  gazed  up  into  that  unfathomable  abyss  of  purity 
and  peace,  she  could  be  content  to  wait  for  eternal  joy. 
The  sorrow  and  trouble  seemed  "  but  for  a  moment " ; 
the  "  weight  of  glory "  "  far  more  exceeding  and  eter- 
nal." Only  to  do  and  to  bear,  as  seeing  Him  who  is  in- 
visible, was  enough  'for  now.  There  was  plenty  of  time 
for  happiness  hereafter.  The  soft  Spring  breezes,  with 
their  woods'  fragrance,  breathed  lovingly  upon  her  ;  a 
robin  lighted  on  a  bough  that  rocked  beneath  his  weight, 
and  pom-ed  out  a  heartful  of  music.  Corn-age  and  faith 
15 


338  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOKT. 

grew  strong.  Still  looking  up  into  the  blue,  as  if  she 
could  see  her  Father's  face  looking  down  on  her,  she 
■whispered  to  Him  all  her  weariness  and  fear,  all  her 
trust,  submission,  and  love.  His  benediction  fell  upon 
her. 


I 


XXVI. 

A     BEEAK     IN     THE     CLOUDS. 

THEODOKA  came  home  with  an  elastic  step,  bright 
eyes,  and  fresh  color.  Her  mother's  face  bright- 
ened by  reflection.  Her  father,  coming  in  and  seeing 
them  both  looking  cheerful,  felt  happier  at  once.  Then 
Jessie  came  home,  bringing  a  letter  from  Robert,  safe 
and  well,  and  jubilant  over  the  taking  of  Yicksburg. 
He  had  been  so  occupied  in  marching  and  fighting,  and 
learning  to  change  his  duties  from  those  of  Adjutant  to 
Lieutenant- Colonel,  that  he  had  failed  to  write.  Letters 
from  Miriam  and  Faith  added  to  their  happiness ;  for 
they  said,  "  Only  a  month  now,  and  we  shall  be  home 
again  !  "  Miriam  wrote  :  "  I  think  you  will  be  pleased 
with  the  change  in  Faith.  In  spite  of  herseK,  she  has 
added  something  of  suavity  to  her  old  strength.  She  is 
quite  a  character  in  school,  I  find.  The  girls  admire  her 
for  her  scholarship  and  thinking  power.  There  is  noth- 
ing they  respect  in  each  other  more  than  independence  ; 
and  this  child  of  ours  is  independent  to  a  fault,  you  know. 
I  find,  whoever  wants  to  do  right  and  does  not  quite 
dare  to,  likes  to  attach  herself  to  Faith.  Of  course  she 
gives  offence  by  her  blunt  speech,  and  is  by  no  means 
universally  popular.  But  she  is  quite  as  much  of  an  ora- 
cle among  her  school-mates  as  is  good  for  her.  And  it  is 
a  great  blessing  to  her  to  find  herself  loved  by  so  many 
and  to  be  obliged  to  regard  the  peculiarities  of  those  she 
loves  and  wants  to  help." 

(339) 


340  THEODORA :  a  home  story. 

When  tliej  came  home,  it  brought  new  life  into  the 
house.  Young  hearts  cannot  remember  trouble  all  the 
time,  and  the  four  sisters  had  many  happy  hours  to- 
gether. Sometimes,  when  they  were  laughing  over  some 
ludicrous  scene  in  the  past,  one  would  remind  the  rest  of 
the  bright  thing  Donald  said,  or  the  comical  thing  he 
did  at  the  time ;  and  the  laugh  would  end  in  a  sigh. 
The  father  and  mother  could  seldom  forget ;  but  they 
had  reached  the  peace  of  faith  and  submission,  so  that 
they  took  a  meek  comfort  in  what  was  left  to  them. 

One  night,  Mr.  Joyce's  house  took  fire.  The  village 
had  no  fire-engine  or  company ;  but  the  citizens  f  ouglit 
the  fire  manfully,  and  saved  every  live  thing  about  the 
place,  and  many  valuables,  though  the  buildings  had  to 
go.  Mr.  Cameron's  energy  and  fearless  promptitude  did 
great  service.  He  had  the  clear  head  and  quick  eye  to 
Bee,  in  an  emergency,  what  could  and  what  could  not  be 
done.  But,  as  he  was  getting  a  horse  out  from  the  burn- 
ing barn,  the  creature,  frantic  with  fear,  kicked  him  so 
that  he  was  laid  up  for  a  month  with  the  injury. 

It  was  the  second  day  of  tins  confinement  that  the 
telegraph-boy  came  to  the  door  with  one  of  those  ominous 
yellow  envelopes.  "  Robert  is  shot !  "  thought  the  mother. 
They  all  watched  the  father's  expression  anxiously  while 
he  tore  the  despatch  open  and  glanced  over  it.  They  saw 
a  wonderful  change  pass  over  it.  He  looked  up  at  them 
with  an  awe  of  gladness  beaming  from  his  face  : 

"  Safe  under  the  flag.  Letter  to-morrow.  Are  you  all 
alive  I  Donald  Ca^ieeon. 

" Hospital,  Cincinnati,  0. ,  July  20<A,  1 863. " 

They  looked  at  each  other  in  a  maze  of  joy.  The  girls 
laughed,  and  theii'  mother  cried.     Each  had  to  take  the 


A   BKEAK    TM   THE    CLOUDS.  341 

telegram  in  her  own  hands,  and  read  it  with  her  own 
eyes.  What  letters  were  hurried  olf  to  Cincinnati  by  the 
next  mail  can  he  imagined. 

Bloomy  Thrasher,  meanwhile,  rushed  off  to  tell  the 
news  to  the  Pei'leys,  and  the  Graveses,  and  the  Larabees, 
and  Alice  Fenton,  and  Merlie  Myers,  and  everybody  she 
met  on  the  way.  Meanwhile,  the  good  news  had  spread 
from  the  telegraph-office  also ;  so  that  by  noon  the  whole 
village  was  rejoicing  over  it. 

The  letter  which  followed  was  short,  and  written  feebly 
in  pencil.  It  stated  that  he,  with  one  comrade,  had  es- 
caped from  a  railroad  train  as  they  were  being  moved 
from  their  prison  to  another  farther  South.  It  burned 
with  longing  to  get  home  and  see  them  all,  and  asked  if 
his  father  could  come  for  him,  or,  at  least,  meet  him  at 
Wheeling,  if  he  could  get  to  his  uncle's.  A  long  post- 
script was  added  by  some  one,  who  seemed  to  be  a  lady 
visitor  to  the  hospital.  She  wrote  that  he  wa,s,  veiy  weak, 
but  the  surgeon  thought  he  would  be  able  to  travel  before 
long.  If  any  of  his  friends  could  come  to  him  in  the 
meanwhile,  he  would  gain  all  the  faster,  as  his  eagerness 
to  get  home  kept  him  in  a  feverish  state. 

Mr.  Cameron  said  he  must  start  at  once,  and  took  down 
his  injured  foot  from  its  rest,  as  the  first  step  towards  it ; 
but  he  found  it  impossible  to  use  it  at  all. 

"  Let  me  go,  father,"  said  Theodora.  "  I  know  every 
step  of  the  way  to  Wheeling,  and  if  he  is  still  at  Cincin- 
nati, that  is  only  another  day's  journey." 

"  Oh,  you  couldn't,  my  child !  The  country  is  too  un- 
quiet— the  riots  only  last  week.  And  the  cars  will  still 
be  crowded,  I  presmne,  with  the  wounded  and  their 
friends  coming  away  from  Gettysburg." 

"  They  would  be  coming  in  the  opposite  direction  most- 


842  theodoka:  a  home  story. 

ly.  Do  let  me  go  ;  Mr.  Leigh  ton  will  see  me  through 
New  York.  Ton  never  mind  danger  or  hardship  for 
yourseK,  at  all,  but  you  feel  it  so  much  for  us  children ! 
I  am  not  a  bit  afraid.  You  certainly  cannot  use  your 
foot  for  a  week  or  two  at  the  shortest.  Besides,  if  I  go  I 
can  stay  and  nurse  him  till  he  is  well  able  to  come  home." 
She  finally  gained  his  consent,  and  the  next  morning 
started  on  her  way,  full  of  eager  expectation.  By  even- 
ing she  was  crossing  New  York,  listening  with  intense 
interest  to  Mr.  Leighton's  account  of  their  adventures  in 
the  riot  the  week  bef ui-e.  He  saw  her  safely  on  the  West- 
ern train  for  a  night's  travel. 


XXVII. 

A    CHANCE    MEETING. 

PKESENTLY  the  very  stout  lady  who  shared  Theo- 
dora's "  section,"  summoned  the  waiter  to  make 
up  the  berths.  All  was  very  soon  ready,  and  the  two  re- 
tired behind  their  curtain,  Theodora's  ticket  was  for  the 
lower  berth,  but  the  fat  lady,  after  one  effort  to  upheave 
her  vastness,  gave  a  direful  groan  and  looked  her  pitifully 
in  the  face. 

"  I  never  can  do  it,"  said  she. 

"  I  will  exchange  with  you,  if  you  like,"  said  Theo- 
dora. 

"  You  may  as  well,  for  I  shall  be  the  death  of  ye  if  I 
try  to  go  over  ye." 

This  seemed  rather  probable,  and  the  young  lady 
mounted  lightly  to  her  perch,  though  she  hated  being 
shelved,  anyway,  and  had  an  idea  the  cream  of  the  bad 
air  rose  to  the  top.  Through  her  sleep  all  night  ran  a 
sense  that  all  was  going  well ;  the  steady  tramp  of  iron 
enginery  which  shook  her  bed  with  its  tremor  was  carry- 
ing her  swiftly  on  towards  the  desire  of  her  heart.  Now 
and  then  came  waking  glimpses  of  cities  flashing  by — 
dark  hills  rising  against  the  sky — now  the  red  lights  of 
burning  fiery  furnaces,  and  she  knows  she  has  reached 
the  coal  region,  and  thinks  drowsily  of  Little  ISTell  and 
her  grandfather  warming  themselves  at  night  by  such  a 
fire.  Then  sleep  floats  along  on  the  undercurrent  of 
sound  and  motion,  till  a  change  in  them  both    breaks 

(343) 


344  THEODOEA  :    A   HOME    STOKY. 

tlirougli  it,  and  light  streams  in  at  her  little  window. 
They  are  in  some  large  station-house.  A  group  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen  come  aboard,  and  she  wonders  stupidly 
how  anybody  can  laugh  and  joke  so  late  at  night.  The 
voices  die  away  as  sleep  settles  down  again.  After  a  long 
while,  she  is  waked  by  the  ceasing  of  the  rattle  and  rush, 
to  find  it  is  dawn,  and  Harrisburg.  The  gentlemen  from 
the  section  opposite  are  huri-ying  off.  The  "Doctor" 
cannot  find  his  things.  First  there  is  a  panic  about  his 
shoes,  and  his  friends  picture  him  promenading  the  streets 
in  his  gorgeous  slippers.  The  black  Colossus  crawls 
under  the  berth  and  drags  the  shoes  to  hglit.  No  soouer 
is  he  at  rest  about  them,  than  he  raises  a  new  alarm  about 
his  umbrella.  "Was  it  green  cloth,  doctor?"  asks  one 
of  his  friends.  "  Yes  ! "  hopefully.  "  And  had  it  a 
wooden  handle  ? ''  "  Yes,  yes !  "  "  And  a  kind  of  iron 
frame  for  extending  it  ? "  "  Why,  yes,  where  is  it  ? " 
"  I  haven't  seen  it." 

The  country  began  to  break  into  bold  spurs  of  the 
mountain  range,  but  a  state  of  disgust  tempered  our 
traveler's  admiration.  She  thought  she  would  never 
travel  for  pleasure,  the  other  senses  have  to  suffer  so 
much  for  the  sake  of  the  eyes.  One  must  be  "  pealed 
with  noises  loud  and  ruinous,''  half  suffocated  with  nause- 
ous smells,  tired  in  every  muscle,  buried  alive  in  dust 
and  ashes,  in  order  to  carry  his  eyes  around  to  their 
feasts.  After  a  good  washing  and  breakfast  at  Altoona, 
however,  she  began  to  regard  things  in  a  different  light. 

As  the  train  wound  in  and  out  among  the  forest-man- 
tled steeps  of  the  Alleghanies,  she  grew  happy,  and  when 
it  swept  royally  around  the  magnificent  arena  of  "  The 
Horseshoe  Bend,"  she  could  hardly  contain  her  delight. 

About  noon  a  telegraphic  rumor  flew  from  mouth  to 


A   CHANCE   MEETESIG.  345 

mon-tli  that  the  rebel  guerrilla  Morgan,  whose  daring  raid 
had  kept  the  borders  of  the  Ohio  in  terror  for  two  weeks 
past,  was  now  at  Lagrange,  directly  on  their  route,  fight- 
ing Union  troops.  This  was  enlivening — to  be  steaming 
right  towards  a  battle ! 

As  the  train  dashed  into  Steuben  ville,  it  was  cheered 
bj  some  hundreds  of  soldiers,  who  looked  as  if  thej  were 
waiting  for  something  to  happen.  They  contradicted  the 
report  of  a  battle,  and  said  Morgan  and  his  men  were 
feeding  their  horses  four  miles  back  from  that  place. 

Theodora  was  intensely  interested.  She  could  not  but 
admire  this  bold  Robin  Hood  and  his  merry  men  for 
daring  to  make  such  an  astounding  dash  through  the 
heart  of  the  enemy's  country,  and  she  felt  the  shadow  of 
a  wish  he  might  escape,  partly  because  it  would  make  a 
splendid  end  for  his  exploit,  partly  from  her  natural  sym- 
pathy with  the  hunted,  rather  than  the  hunters. 

Every  few  miles,  bodies  of  soldiery  were  stationed. 
Before  nearly  every  farm-house,  a  family-group  were  on 
the  lookout,  who  waved  flags  or  handkei'chiefs  to  the 
train.  Hardly  a  yeoman  crossed  the  fields  without  a 
musket  over  his  shoulder.  The  whole  population  was  on 
the  qui  vive.  A  steamboat  was  patrolling  the  river.  At 
every  station  was  a  crowd  of  people  eager  to  hear  and 
to  tell  some  news. 

At  length  our  traveler  saw  in  the  distance  the  cloud  of 
heavy  smoke  hanging  over  Wheeling,  and  began  to  won- 
der who  would  come  to  meet  her.  She  had  been  able  to 
announce  her  coming  only  a  day  in  advance,  and  it  was 
always  understood  that  if  they  failed  to  be  at  the  station 
in  time,  she  was  to  go  to  a  certain  hotel  in  town  and 
await  them. 

The  well-known  picture  of  hills,  winding  river,  and 
15* 


3-16  THEODOEA  :    A    HOME    STOET. 

graceful  bridges  tlirilled  her  like  tlie  remembered  pre- 
lude of  a  dear  old  tune. 

As  the  train  slackened  its  speed,  she  saw  that  a  large 
force  of  militia  were  guarding  the  station.  The  raiders 
had  had  so  disastrous  an  experience  trying  to  cross  the 
fords  of  the  river,  it  was  supposed  there  was  nothing  they 
would  like  so  well  as  to  make  a  dash  over  this  bridge, 
the  only  one  below  Pittsbm-g. 

She  saw,  at  a  glance,  that  aU  the  troops  were  extem- 
pore volunteers.  She  peered  into  the  crowd  as  the  train 
stopped,  to  find  her  cousins  among  them,  but  recognized 
nobody.  As  she  stood  on  the  car  platfoim,  waiting  for 
the  brakeman  to  help  down  an  old  lady  with  a  bandbox 
and  a  pan-ot,  she  looked  again,  and  saw,  not  Will  nor 
Archie,  but,  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd  some  distance  off, 
a  mounted  officer  in  the  regular  uniform,  whose  gTand 
shoulders  and  heav^'^  beard  looked  familiar.  The  easy 
nonchalance  with  which  he  sat  his  restive  horse,  as  he 
talked  with  some  one  standing  near  him,  was  unmistak- 
able. The  girl's  heart  gave  a  little  frisk  out  of  its 
regular  beat  and  said  to  her,  "  Pelham  Bell !  " 

But  the  brakeman  is  readv  for  her  now,  so  she  eroes 
along  with  the  rest  to  the  omnibus  wliich  runs  across  the 
bridge  to  the  city. 

As  she  sat  in  it,  waiting,  she  caught  sight  again  of 
Pelham  Bell's  knightly  figure.  He  was  shading  his  eyes 
vdth  his  gauntleted  hand,  and  looking  in  that  direction. 
She  wished  he  had  known  she  was  to  be  there.  At  that 
moment,  the  omnibus  started  with  a  guard  on  each  side 
of  it,  and  she  saw  Lieut.  Bell  galloping  off.  She  could 
not  but  think  how  pleasant  it  would  have  been  to  speak 
with  him  once  more,  at  least  to  have  praised  him  for  his 
gallant  exploits.     "  So  near  and  yet  so  far  !  "     How  com- 


A   CHANCE   MEETING.  '        347 

manding  and  handsome  he  looked  in  his  uniform !  Then 
came  an  idle  wondennent,  as  she  gazed  out  on  the  river, 
■what  would  have  come  of  it  if  she  had  consented  to 
correspond  with  him,  and  an  idle  wish  that  one  could  do 
every  delightful  thing  without  anything  coming  of  it. 

But  now  they  were  rattling  over  the  old  pavement. 
The  very  smell  of  the  smoke  which  she  used  to  detest, 
had  a  flavor  of  old  times  in  it  which  made  it  agreeable. 
So  had  the  shabby  gentihty  of  the  begrimed  hotel  parlor. 
She  would  have  been  dissatisfied  if  the  carpet  had  looked 
bright,  or  the  lace  curtain  clean.  She  learned  from  the 
clerk  that  no  one  had  yet  come  to  meet  her,  and  sat 
down  by  the  window  to  wait. 

At  length,  she  heard  a  footstep  change  from  the 
oilcloth  of  the  hall  to  the  bnissels  of  the  parlor,  and  turned 
to  see  her  cousin  Archie  entering  the  room.  The  boy 
was  well  pleased  by  her  exclamations  of  amazement  at  his 
height,  but  changed  the  subject  when  she  inquired  mis- 
chievously why  he  did  not  let  his  mustache  grow. 

"  When  did  you  get  mj  letter  ? "  she  asked. 

"  I  haven't  seen  any  letter.  I  have  been  down  guard- 
ing the  bridge  since  yesterday  morning.  So  have  Will 
and  Hans.  Father  and  mother  are  out  in  Ohio,  at  Uncle 
Tom's ;  he  is  right  sick.  There's  not  a  man  about  the 
place  except  old  Jake,  and  I  reckon  the  girls  have  not 
been  to  the  post-ofiice.  ISTo  person  likes  to  trust  his 
horses  out  of  sight  of  home,  just  now. 

"  But  how  did  you  know  I  was  here  ?  I  looked  for 
you  among  the  soldiers,  but  I  didn't  see  you." 

"  Ko  more  did  I  you ;  but  Lieut.  Bell  came  to  me  and 
said  he  thought  he  saw  you  getting  into  the  omnibus  ;  it 
was  a  good  piece  off,  and  he  didn't  suppose  you  were  any- 
where in  these  parts,  so  he  was  not  certain.     I  told  him 


348  THEODOEA  :    A    HOME   8T0KT. 

I  expected  it  was  you,  and  I  was  afraid  you  'd  have  no 
way  to  get  out  home.  So  he  went  off,  and  asked  leave  of 
absence  for  me,  long  enough  to  take  you.  I  don't  expect 
I  could  have  got  to  come,  if  it  had  not  been  for  him,  but 
he  is  General  Blank's  favorite  Aide,  you  know,  and  he 
can  have  favors  for  the  asking." 

"  Donald  hasn't  come  ?  " 

"  No ;  we  have  heard  nothing  except  through  you." 

Archie  was  gone  a  long  time.  At  first,  Theodora  did 
not  mind  it.  It  was  pleasant  to  know  that  her  old  friend 
had  recognized  her,  and  taken  care  of  her.  It  is  pleasant 
to  be  quickly  recognized,  after  a  long  absence  ! 

Perhaps  from  being  so  busy  all  her  days  that  she  was 
obliged  to  make  the  most  of  the  minutes,  Theodora  knew 
how  to  wait.  When  she  had  thouo-ht  over  the  Torrino:- 
tons  and  Bell,  till  the  new  time  had  joined  itself  kindly 
to  the  old,  she  took  paper  and  pencil  from  her  traveling 
bag,  and  settling  herself  at  the  broad  window  seat,  wrote 
a  letter  home.  As  she  glanced  up,  she  saw  by  the  slant 
streams  of  dusky  sunshine  that  day  was  almost  gone,  and 
wondered  what  could  keep  Archie  so  long.  Riding  up  that 
rough  road  in  the  dark,  with  a  strange  horse,  was  not  a 
thing  to  be  desired.  Just  as  she  was  filling  the  last  cor- 
ner of  her  margin,  he  came  back.  She  hurried  her  letter 
into  an  envelope  and  left  it  to  be  posted.  Archie  told 
her,  as  they  went  down  to  the  door,  that  he  had  found  it 
nearly  impossible  to  get  any  horse  at  all ;  martial  law 
had  been  proclaimed,  and  the  stable-keepers  were  not  al- 
lowed to  let  any  horse  without  special  permit.  After 
running  all  over  the  city,  he  had  succeeded  in  finding  a 
creature  that  was  quite  safe  from  capture,  for  obvious 
reasons,  and  a  carriage  to  match  him.  When  she  saw  it 
she  demurred  a  little. 


A   CHAlsCE   MEETING.  349 

"  Are  yon  sure  it  will  hold  together  till  we  get  there  ? 
That  either  of  tliem  will  ?     There  is  such 

"  '  A  general  sense  of  mild  .decay, 
And  something  "local,"  I  should  say,' 

besides.  Why,  Archie,  it  is  tied  together  with  strings ; 
the  buggy  is,  and  I  am  sure  the  horse  ought  to  be.'' 

"  'Deed  it  is  ;  that  is  the  reason  it  will  hold  together. 
Jump  in,  cousin.  No  fear  but  it  will  hang  together 
thi-ee  or  four  hours  yet." 

The  ancient  beast  had  been  an  originally  good  one  : 

'*  E'en  in  his  ashes  lived  his  wonted  fires," 

and  on  discovering  that  he  had  a  good  driver  beliind  him, 
he  trundled  them  along  so  well  that  they  reached  the 
Limestone  Kocks  just  as  the  great  round  sun  sank  behind 
the  horizon.  It  flooded  the  beautiful  valley  with  red 
light,  and  as  that  ebbed  away,  the  first  star  of  evening 
glittered  out  from  the  clear  blue,  and  the  young  moon 
shone  through  the  trees. 

It  was  a  strange  Sunday  and  Monday  with  only  the 
three  girls  in  the  large  house.  They  heard  cannon  Sun- 
day afternoon,  but  could  only  conjecture  what  it  meant. 
The  very  dogs  seemed  lonesome.  Old  Rover  sat  on  the 
horse-block,  Monday  afternoon,  watching  for  some  one  to 
come,  till  he  grew  discouraged,  and  dropped  asleep. 
Suddenly  he  waked  with  a  short,  loud  bark,  and  then  the 
terriers  set  up  their  chorus  of  higher-keyed  barking. 
Theodora  ran  to  the  window  and  saw  the  Newfoundland 
waving  his  white  plume  of  a  tail  while  the  smaller  dogs 
were  scampering  up  the  road  to  meet  the  clattering  of 
horse's  feet.  The  ti'ees  liid  the  horseman  for  a  moment, 
but  as  he  dashed  up  to  the  gate  she  gave  a  cry  of  pleas- 


350  theodoea:  a  home  story. 

lire  wLicli  made  him  look  up  and  lift  his  chapeau  with 
a  flashing  smile.  He  was  hardly  off  his  horse  before  she 
was  downstairs  and  on  the  porch. 

"  How  good  you  were  to  come  'way  out  here  to  see 
me  !"  she  said,  with  a  beaming  face,  as  she  gave  him  her 
hand. 

"  Good!  How  bad  you  were  not  so  much  as  to  let 
me  know  you  were  coming !"  said  Bell,  shaking  her  hand, 
and  still  keeping  it.  "  Ah,  Miss  Dora,  if  you  cared  half 
as  much  about  your  old  friends  as  they  do  about  you, 
you  wouldn't  treat  them  that  way." 

"  Indeed,  Bell,  I  didn't  know  you  were  anywhere  this 
side  of  Dixie." 

"  Then  I'll  forgive  you  and  teU  you  the  news.  Mor- 
gan is  taken." 

"  Good  !  When  ?  Where  ?  Who  took  him  ?  Walk 
into  the  parlor.  Girls ! "  she  called  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs,  "  Morgan  is  taken.  Come  down  and  see  Lieuten- 
ant Bell." 

"  Last  night.  Columbiana  County.  General  Shackle- 
ford." 

"  Do  tell  me  all  about  it." 

"  There  is  nothing  much  to  tell,"  said  the  Lieutenant, 
wheeling  around  an  easy  chair  for  her  and  throwing  him- 
self down  on  a  sofa  right  opposite.  "  He  had  been 
dr>en  onto  a  bluff,  and  was  completely  bagged,  so  that 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  surrender  with  his  men." 

"  Poor  fellows !" 

^^  Poor  fellows  r''  repeated  Bell,  with  a  comical  ex- 
pression of  the  eyebrows.  "  What  a  rebel  sympathizer 
you  are !  You  ought  to  clap  your  hands  and  rejoice  and 
sing  '  Good  enough  for  them  !'  " 

"  Oh,  I  am  glad,  only  I  can't  help  pitying  them,  too." 


A   CHAXCE   MEETING.  351 

"  That  was  always  one  of  tlio  charming  things  about 
you,  Miss  Dora.  In  spite  of  your  blue  oi'thocloxy,  you 
would  ^ j)oor  fellow^  the  biggest  scoundrel,  if  you  saw 
him  in  a  tight  place." 

"  You  need  not  say  in  spite  of  that,  Bell,  for  there  is 
nothing  in  my  religion  that  wouldn't  make  me  all  the 
more  pitiful  to  evei-ybody  in  trouble.  But  do  tell  me 
about  yourself !  You  don't  know  how  proud  I  have  been 
of  your  gallant  exploits.  I  always  thought  you  might 
make  something  rather  extra  if  you  were  only  forced 
to  it." 

This  saucy  thrust  threw  them  at  once  into  their  old 
tone  of  raillery  and  retort ;  but  in  the  midst  of  the  bad- 
inage he  told  her  much  about  his  ai-my  life,  mocking  at 
his  o^vn  brave  deeds,  as  he  did  at  everything  else.  Noth- 
ing in  life  is  so  sad  or  so  terrible  that  it  has  not  a  motley 
patch  of  the  ludicrous  somewhere  upon  it,  and  this  never 
escaped  Pel  ham  Bell's  quick  eye.  He  described  to  her 
grand  and  fearful  scenes,  but  while  she  was  still  thrilling 
with  the  grandeur  or  the  dread,  he  would  give  it  some 
ridiculous  turn  that  would  end  it  all  in  laughter. 

"  But  you  have  kept  me  prating  about  myself  all  this 
while,"  he  said  at  last ;  "  now,  pray  tell  me  what  kind 
fortune  brought  you  here,  just  in  the  nick  of  time  for  me 
to  bless  myseK  with  the  sight  of  you." 

To  answer  was  to  tell  the  story  of  Donald's  capture — 
the  long  suspense  and  the  glad  news  of  his  safety.  That 
was  something  she  could  not  joke  about,  and  it  comfort- 
ed her  to  see  the  sympathetic  interest  in  the  handsome 
face  of  her  listener.  He  could  understand  her  trial  and 
pain,  just  as  he  would  about  his  own  ;  yet  she  felt  that 
he  could  not  understand  the  heavenly  strength  and  com- 
fort that  had  carried  her  through  it,  and  she  did  not  try 


352  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

to  tell  him  about  that.  Perhaps  she  'svronged  him  in  not 
giving-  him  that  part  of  the  story. 

She  had  often  felt  to  blame,  in  their  old  days  together, 
that  she  never  gave  him  what  was  most  real  and  precious 
to  her.  It  seemed  as  if  it  would  be  turning  what  was 
most  dear  and  sacred  into  a  jest,  for  there  was  not  a  touch 
of  reverence  in  his  composition,  still  he  had  one  of  the 
kindest  hearts  in  the  world ;  he  confided  in  her  as  his 
best  friend,  and,  perhaps,  if  she  had  trusted  him  with  her 
higher,  hoHer  feelings,  leaiTiing  to  respect  them  for  her 
sake,  he  might  have  ended  by  cherishing  them  for  his 
own. 

"  Then  you  go  right  on  to  old  Cincinnati  ?"  he  asked, 
when  she  was  through. 

"  Yes,  to-moiTow." 

'•  "What  a  piece  of  luck  !  General  Blank  sent  me  to  buy 
bira  a  horse.  He  is  mighty  fanciful,  and  thinks  nobody 
can  suit  him  but  me.  I  fostered  the  delusion  so  I  might 
get  to  come  home  for  a  few  days.  I  have  fooled  around 
here  as  long  as  I  care  to,  so  I  was  intending  to  go  down 
to  Parkersburg  to-mon'ow,  where  I  hear  of  the  horse  I 
want ;  then  go  on  and  join  the  General  at  Caii'o. 

"  So,  if  you  will  allow  me  the  honor,  I  can  be  your 
escort." 

"  I  could  paddle  my  own  canoe  if  it  was  necessary,  but 
it  is  very  nice  to  take  in  a  good  strong  pilot,"  she  said, 
nestling  back  in  her  easy  chair  with  a  contented  sigh, 

"  You  never  had  any  difficulty  about  taking  me  in," 
said  the  aide-de-camp,  ambiguously  ;  "  if  you  would  only 
take  me  in  for  good — '' 

"What  a  precious  pilot  you  would  make!"  she  said, 
laughing  ;  and  he  laughed  too,  haK  provoked. 

It  was  decided  that  to  go  down  the  Ohio  by  boat  as  far 


A   CHANCE   MEETING.  ^^^ 


as  Parkersburg,  and  there  take  the  rail,  would  give  an  easy, 
pleasant  trip  for  her,  and  afford  him  time  for  the  horse 
purchase  without  delay  in  the  journey. 

Now  "  the  girls "  came  down  stairs,  and  "  the  boys 
came  home,  released  from  guard  duty,  and  the  house  be- 
gan to  rmg  with  voices,  and  seem  like  itself  again. 


XXVIII. 

DOWN     THK     EIVER. 

IT  was  in  high  spirits  that  Theodora  went  on  board 
"  The  Water  Sprite."  She  could  say  now,  "  To-mor- 
row I  shall  see  hiin !"  In  the  meanwhile,  she  had  to 
enjoy  a  trip  down  La  Belle  Riviere,  under  a  bright  Sum- 
mer sky,  with  one  of  the  handsomest  and  most  entertain- 
ing of  companions. 

As  they  sat  in  the  shadiest  spot  on  the  deck,  waiting 
for  the  boat  to  start,  the  clatter  of  hoofs  drew  their  eyes 
to  the  suspension-bridge,  with  its  graceful  curves  and 
solid  towers.  A  troop  of  cavalry  were  crossing  it ;  they 
turned  short  to  the  left,  and  came  down  through  the 
trees,  on  the  opposite  bank,  to  water  their  horses.  Some 
of  them  cantered  gaily  into  the  river,  throwing  a  shower 
of  diamonds  into  the  sunshine.  Others  walked  in  de- 
mm-ely,  sipping  as  they  went.  The  foremost  rider  wore 
a  scarlet  blouse. 

Theodora  turned  from  the  scene,  her  face  alight  with 
admiration,  and  found  her  friend  at  her  side,  gazing  at 
her  with  very  much  the  same  expression. 

"  Why  don't  you  look  at  that  charming  picture  ?''  she 
exclaimed  in  some  confusion. 

"  Because  I  have  a  more  charming  one  to  look  at,"  he 
answered,  vtdth  a  smile. 

She  felt  that  she  was  blushing,  and  that  he  was  pleased 
to  see  her  blush,  and  that  vexed  her,  for  her  unruly  blood 
seemed  to  attach  more  consequence  to  the  look  and  the 
(354) 


DOWN    TUE   EIVEE.  355 

remark,  than  she  chose  to  liave  it.  Parrying  his  pretty 
speeches  had  been  one  of  the  pleasant  little  excitements 
of  her  intercourse  with  him,  especially  in  the  latter  part 
of  it,  w^hen  she  was  conscious  that  he  was  more  than  half 
in  earnest.  She  had  gi'own  adroit  at  it,  but  now  she  was 
out  of  practice.  Besides,  she  had  felt  a  new  respect  and 
solicitude  for  him  since  he  had  been  in  danger,  and  borne 
himself  so  well,  which  made  it  difficult  for  her  to  keep  up 
that  light  tone  of  raillery,  which  could  turn  the  sentimen- 
tal to  the  ridiculous  in  a  moment,  and  yet  give  no  offence. 
There  was  a  change  on  his  part  as  well.  He  had  been 
so  starved  for  ladies'  society,  in  his  two  years'  service, 
that  any  ordinarily  pretty  girl  might  have  won  much  gal- 
lantry from  him.  But  Theodora  Cameron  was  the  woman 
he  beheved  in.  He  was  not  a  man  to  take  much  note 
of  his  own  good  deeds,  but  when  he  had  done  a  specially 
brave  or  generous  thing,  as  he  sometimes  did,  he  always 
felt  a  longing  to  see  her  again.  J^ow  that  he  was  with 
her,  he  thought  her  more  lovable  than  ever.  Unknown 
to  herself,  the  patient  suffering  of  the  last  eight  months 
had  wrought  in  her  soul,  and  so  in  her  looks  and  manner, 
a  sweet,  womanly  gentleness.  Much  as  he  always  liked 
her,  he  used  to  think  she  was  too  cutting  sometimes — too 
independent. 

"  She  has  somehow  had  a  porcelain  shade  put  over  her 
brightness,''  he  said  to  himself,  "  and  the  light  is  more 
agreeable." 

That  slight  blush  delighted  his  heart, — it  seemed  to 
bring  her  within  his  reach  ;  she  was  not  invulnerable ;  he 
could  make  her  take  his  compliments ;  no  matter  what 
her  Kps  said,  so  long  as  her  cheek  would  answer  like  that. 
Having  blushed  once,  she  would  be  afraid  of  it,  and  that 
would  make  her  blush  again. 


356  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOEY. 

But  now  the  boat  was  sweeping  around  to  her  course, 
and  the  wheels  were  lashing  the  tawny  river  into  amber 
spray.  The  shady  was  becoming  the  sunny  side,  but  be- 
fore most  of  the  passengers  had  taken  in  the  change,  our 
young  lady  found  herself  seated  in  one  of  the  most  com- 
fortable chairs,  where  the  happiest  conditions  of  shade 
and  breeze  and  look-out  met. 

Bell  was  anxious  to  hear  the  whole  story  of  the  con- 
fiscation, and  expressed  hot  indignation  at  Mrs.  Torring- 
ton's  treatment  of  her.  Whatever  really  touched  her  he 
seemed  to  feel  warmly ;  but  for  the  rest,  he  used  a  mock- 
ing tone  which  distressed  her.  Wliether  he  told  of  a  hair- 
breadth escape  from  death,  or  of  an  old  acquaintance 
morally  ruined,  he  had  some  droll  phrase  for  it,  or  some 
comico-shocking  story  to  tell  in  connection.  If  she  re- 
monstrated, he  would  retort  that  if  she  had  only  corre- 
sponded with  him  as  she  ought  to  have  done,  he  never 
should  have  become  a  savage  and  a  reprobate  ;  and  very 
likely,  before  he  was  through,  he  would  betray  a  gleam  of 
feeling  so  real  and  kind,  that  she  thought  he  sometimes 
laughed  to  keep  from  tears. 

Whenever  the  boat  stopped,  they  amused  themselves 
with  comments  on  the  by-standers.  The  "  Water  Sprite  " 
tacked  to  shore  at  the  beck  of  anybody  who  chose  to  hail 
her. 

•."  What  an  American  scene ! "  exclaimed  Theodora,  as 
they  leaned  over  the  bulwarks,  watching  the  crowd  at  one 
of  these  landings. 

The  boat  was  loading  and  unloading  all  manner  of 
merchandize,  from  potatoes  to  baby-wagons,  but  the  first 
thing  which  had  been  put  off  was  the  village  supply  of 
newspapers,  and  everybody  not  busy  about  the  landing, 
was  reading  them.      In  the  backgi-ound,  the  village,  with 


DOWN    THE   KIVEE.  357 

its  church,  school-house,  and  grog-shop  ;  a  bit  of  the 
forest  primeval  on  one  side,  and  a  thriving  com-lield  on 
the  other,  sloped  to  the  water's  edge. 

"  Yes,  that's  American.  They  are  reading  the  news 
about  your  '  poor  fellows.'  But  see  there  ;  that's  cosmo- 
politan ;  see  that  naval  engagement  ? " 

He  pointed  to  a  couple  of  Newfoundland  dogs,  which 
had  come  down  to  show  off  their  swimming.  One  of  the 
deck-hands  had  thrown  over  an  old  broom,  and  they 
were  contending  for  the  honor  of  bringing  it  in. 

"  That's  the  kind  of  thing  that's  going  on  the  world 
around,"  said  Lieutenant  Bell ;  "  two  pulling  at  the  same 
broom-stick,  and  flattering  themselves  all  the  world  is  in- 
terested in  the  result.  That's  what  the  North  and  South 
have  been  at  these  three  years.  We  have  the  broom  end, 
and  I  expect  we  shall  succeed,  but  it'll  not  prove  we  are 
the  best  dog.  Seek  him !  That  was  a  good  pull !  Ah, 
you  have  lost  it !  " 

The  dog  that  had  the  advantage  of  the  broom  end 
came  swimming  proudly  in  with  his  prize. 

"  Ton  talk,"  said  Theodora,  "  as  if  there  was  nothing 
at  stake.  I  don't  see  how  you  can  fight  as  you  do,  if  you 
don't  value  what  you  are  fighting  for.  I  shouldn't  want 
to  throw  away  my  life  for  a  broom-stick." 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  of  any  great  account  which  way  it 
turns,  really,"  he  answered.  "  Our  Government  is  as 
con'upt  as  it  can  be ;  the  country  is  overgrown  and  bound 
to  fall  to  pieces  some  of  these  days,  any  way.  So  long 
as  I  am  in  for  it,  of  course  I  want  my  side  to  beat ;  as  to 
fighting,  put  me  under  fire  and  I  couldn't  but  do  my  best 
if  it  was  all  about  a  shoe-string." 

"  Oh,  Bell,  it  is  such  a  belittling,  depressing  view  of 
things  !     If  the  Government  is  corrupt,  the  citizens  can 


358  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    STOEY. 

purify  it.  The  country  is  enorraous,  but  you  are  fighting 
that  the  same  principle  it  was  foimded  upon  may  grapple 
it  together.  I  want  you  to  feel  you  are  one  of  the  cham- 
pions of  a  Government  as  strong  as  it  is  free,  which  will 
bless  the  nation  years  after  these  armies  are  all  dead." 

"  Perhaps  I  might,  if  I  could  always  kindle  my  en- 
tluisiasm  at  those  beautiful  eyes." 

As  he  spoke,  the  eyes  in  question  shone  through  a  sud- 
den dimness  which  resembled  tears — 

"As  the  mist  resembles  rain." 

He  saw  that  he  had  hurt  her  by  turning  her  earnest  plea 
to  the  purpose  of  a  mere  compliment  to  herself,  and  he 
loved  her  for  it.  Instantly  his  manner  changed,  and  his 
tones  were  sweet  and  rich,  as  he  said  : 

"  Forgive  me.  Miss  Dora ;  I  would  like  to  see  things  as 
you  do,  but  there  is  so  much  trickeiy,  and  jealousy,  and 
meanness  all  about  me  that  I  lose  faith  in  everything 
great  or  good,  except — "  He  checked  himself  from 
saying  "  when  I  am  with  you,"  lest  he  should  offend  again, 
but  the  silence  was  significant. 

There  was  a  manly  humility  in  the  "  dark,  splendid  " 
face  tm*ned  towards  her,  which  touched  her  heart.  She 
longed  to  have  him  believe  on  Him  who  is  the  resurrec- 
tion and  the  life  for  every  virtue  and  every  holy  hope. 
In  a  few  simple,  earnest  words  she  told  him  so. 

He  listened  with  a  more  serious  look  than  he  often 
wore,  and  answered,  gloomily : 

"  It  must  be  beautiful  to  have  a  faith  like  yours  ;  but 
it's  not  for  me.  I  believe  what  I  can  see ;  but  everything 
beyond  this  world  is  an  utter  blank  to  me.  I  shall  be 
surprised  if  I  find  myself  in  any  other  quarters  when  I 
am  ousted  from  these." 


DOWX   THE    KIVEE,  359 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  and  when  he  looked 
up  he  saw  that  her  face  was  sad  and  perplexed. 

"  It  is  very  good  of  you  to  care  what  becomes  of  me, 
Miss  Dora.  I  am  sure  if  anybody  can  be  the  saving  of 
me,  it  is  you.  If  I  could  have  you  always  near  me,  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  I  got  to  be  quite  a  saint  in  time." 
The  words  were  light,  but  the  melancholy  smile  on  the 
mii*thful  mouth  gave  them  a  pathetic  sound. 

She  felt  as  if  she  would  give  her  life  to  redeem  him. 

"  Am  I  too  hopeless  a  heathen  ?  "  he  asked. 

It  was  not  a  very  definite  question,  but  the  pleading 
ardor  of  the  look  that  went  with  it  was  definite  enough. 

How  one  could  love  him  if  she  once  gave  herself  up  to 
it !  Would  it  be  foolish  ?  Would  it  be  wrong  ?  At  any 
rate,  her  heart  was  too  heavy  with  real  anxiety  about  him 
to  answer  with  a  joke  this  time. 

"  You  are  not  '  hopeless  '  any  way,  Bell.  We  will  be 
good  friends  always,  and  I  will  help  you  every  way  I 
can  if  you  will  only  try  to  find  the  truth  and  live  by  it." 

He  shook  Ms  head  slightly,  as  if  dissatisfied,  but  said 
nothing  more. 

"  See  how  the  mist  is  gathering  on  the  hills  yonder  !  " 
exclaimed  Theodora. 

"  It  is  rain,  and  it  is  coming  this  way  very  fast.  Will 
you  go  in  ? " 

"  I  want  to  see  it  come.  It  looks  as  if  a,ll  the  world 
had  faded  away,  except  this  circle  around  us." 

"  Let  me  open  your  state-room  door — may  I  ?  You 
can  sit  just  inside,  and  see  it  as  well." 

In  a  moment,  he  had  her  arranged,  with  his  rubber 
blanket  thrown  over  her. 

"  No ;  my  water-proof  is  here,  and  you  must  keep  the 
blanket,  unless  you  would  rather  go  in." 


360  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    6T0ET. 

At  that  moment  came  a  blinding  flash  of  lightning, 
and  he  answered : 

"  IS^o,  thank  jou.  Thunder  and  lightning,  iron  hail 
and  leaden  rail,  is  all  the  same  to  me  " —  a  crash  of  thun- 
der di'owned  his  voice. 

The  rain  was  pouring  now,  but  they  were  on  the  shel- 
tered side. 

"  What  a  lovely  little  island ! " 

At  that  moment  the  boat  ran  aground  on  the  lovely 
little  island.  Torrents  of  rain  hid  both  shores  of  the 
river,  and  made  the  trees  near  them  appear  like  the 
phantom  foliage  of  some  enchanted  isle.  Every  few 
minutes,  a  sheet  of  white  lightning  flashed  before  them, 
with  a  chain  of  intenser  fire  flung  over  the  blaze  of  pure 
light.  Quickly  after,  came  a  peal  of  thunder,  which 
seemed  to  roU  out  from  some  far-off  cave  of  space,  widen, 
deepen,  reverberate,  as  though  the  skies  would  faU  be- 
neath its  awful  weight,  then  die  away,  with  solemn  mur- 
murs, in  the  distant  heavens. 

"  Are  you  afraid  ? "  asked  Bell. 

"  No,"  was  all  she  answered ;  but  he  turned  his  eyes 
slowly  from  her  face — it  was  so  radiant  with  rejoicing 
awe.  The  sublimity  of  a  great  thunder-storm  alwaj^s  filled 
her  soul.  Besides,  whether  she  was  distinctly  conscious  of 
it  or  not,  there  was  a  subtile  charm  in  the  illusion  of  all 
the  world  dissolved  save  this  one  island,  with  its  half- 
veiled  beauty — all  the  people  out  of  sight,  out  of  mind, 
save  this  one  man,  who  made  her  feel  that  she  was  more 
to  him  than  all  of  them.  There  was  an  air  of  freedom 
and  of  strength  about  his  grand  figure,  with  his  black 
beard  blowing  in  the  wind,  and  his  bold,  bright  eyes 
meeting  the  lightning  full  in  the  face,  that  made  him 
seem  like  some  glorious  creatm-e  of  the  storm.     He  felt, 


DOWISr    THE    EIVEE.  361 

like  her,  the  exhilaration  of  tempestuous  joy  which 
thrilled  through  skj  and  air ;  but  one  grand  element  of 
her  delight  was  quite  unknown  to  him.  To  her,  the 
Lord  spake  out  of  the  whirlwind;  it  was  the  God  of 
glory  that  thundered  marvelously  with  His  voice ;  and 
the  homely  love  and  trust  of  eveiy  day  rose  to  exultant 
worship. 

With  one  mighty  crash,  close  over  their  heads,  the 
tremendous  commotion  ended.  Fast  as  they  had  come, 
the  armies  of  the  air  withdrew.  The  sun  shone  out  on 
the  reeking  earth.  The  "  Water  Sprite  "  had  much  ado  to 
tear  herself  away  from  the  island ;  but,  in  time  she  suc- 
ceeded, and  sped  on  her  way. 

"  How  should  you  like  to  go  up  into  the  pilot-house  ? " 
asked  Bell,  after  supper. 

"  Of  aU  things !     Will  he  let  us  f " 

"  Yes.  We  have  a  free  and  hospitable  way  of  doing 
things  on  our  river.  We  are  not  stiff  and  exclusive,  like 
your  Yankees." 

The  old  man  at  the  wheel  had  a  shai-p  eye  and  a  good- 
natured  mouth.  He  allowed  the  young  lady  to  steer, 
taught  her  to  signal  boats  they  met,  and  amused  her  with 
his  sense  of  superiority  to  pilots  that  have  plenty  of  water 
to  navigate. 

"  Capt'n,  did  you  hear  the  news  we  had  telegraphed  up 
to  the  Point  ? "  he  asked  Bell. 

"  No ;  what  was  it  ? " 

"  They've  had  light  smart  of  a  collision,  down  yonder 
to  Pebble  Cove.  The  '  Piver  Queen '  met  the  '  Georgi- 
anna,'  and  knocked  her  to  the  bottom  of  the  river." 

"  That  was  unkind,"  said  Bell,  coolly.  "  How  did  it 
happen  ? " 

"It  was  during  that  thunder-stonn.  Wasn't  that  a 
16 


3C)2  THEO5OKA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

master-storm,  tliongli !  Ton  mind,  we  couldn't  see  a 
boat's  length  from  us.  The  '  Queen '  kept  tooting  all  the 
way ;  but,  bless  me !  some  of  them  thunder-claps  were 
that  loud  you  couldn't  ha'  heard  her  toot's  five  jai'ds  off. 
They'd  ought  t'ave  tied  up — that's  what  they'd  ought  to 
du ;  but  Cap'n  Pushell,  he's  always  in  such  a  mighty 
hurry  he  won't  stop,  and  you  can't  make  him  anyhow. 
He  never  seen  the  little  steamer  till  she  was  smack 
under  his  bows,  and  the  '  Queen '  cut  into  her." 

"  Did  she  sink  right  away  ?  "  asked  Theodora. 

"  In  three  minutes,  ma'am,  there  was  not  a  stick  of  hei 
above  water,  'cept  the  upper  cabin.  The  water  jesi 
h'isted  that  clean  off,  and  they  towed  it  to  shore." 

"  Were  many  lost  ? " 

"  It  was  all  over  that  quick  that  not  a  soul  was  saved 
but  the  few  that  happened  to  be  in  the  upper  cabin,  and 
what  the  '  Queen '  could  pick  out  of  the  water." 

"  So  they  never  knew  what  hurt  them,"  said  Bell. 
"That  was  lucky.  Miss  Doi-a,  isn't  it  getting  rather 
breezy  for  you  up  here  ? " 

They  went  do^vn,  and  watched  the  coming  on  of  evening. 

A  pitch-pine  torch,  flaring  on  the  dark  bank,  beckoned 
the  "  Water  Sprite  "  to  call  for  passengers. 

An  old  man,  whose  face  looked  haggard  even  in  the 
glare  of  the  red  torch-light,  called  out : 

"  Cajitain,  could  you  put  me  off  where  the  cabin  of  the 
'  Georgianna '  is." 

The  Captain  stood  at  the  other  end  of  the  boat  where 
our  travelers  could  not  hear  him,  but  they  could  see  the 
old  man  looking  up  anxiously  as  he  listened  to  his  reply ; 
then  they  heard  him  say ; 

"  I  expect  my  daughter  was  on  the  boat,  and  I  want  to 
see  if  I  can  find  any  trace  of  her." 


DOWN    THE   BIVEE.  o63 

In  a  moment,  one  of  tlie  boat  hands  ran  down  and 
helped  Lira  up  the  plank,  and  the  "  Sprite  "  was  on  her 
way  again.  lie  came  slowly  np  the  stairs  and  went  into 
the  cabin. 

The  two  friends  still  sat  on  the  after-deck,  enjoying 
each  other,  and  the  enchanted  beauty  of  the  night.  The 
moon  crested  the  wake  of  the  boat,  turning  the  turbid 
river  into  a  stream  of  crystal.  Theodora  felt  a  sweet 
relief  in  being  so  exquisitely  taken  care  of,  instead  of 
taking  care  of  others.  She  had  hardly  been  conscious,  in 
the  time  of  it,  how  great  an  effort  she  was  making  to 
bear  her  own  burdens,  and  stay  up  the  spirits  of  her 
father  and  mother;  but  now  it  was  over,  it  seemed 
delicious  to  rest  on  the  light-hearted  strength  of  this  lover- 
friend  and  feel  no  anxiety  for  anybody  or  anything. 

Take  care,  Theodora !  Will  he  do  to  rest  upon  for  life  ? 
The  moonlight  is  very  tender,  so  are  the  tones  in  your 
ear.  Tour  heart  is  hovering  very  near  the  flame  !  Will 
it  warm  and  bless  you,  or  singe  your  wings  and  maim 
your  life  ? 

The  bell  rang,  and  the  boat  stopped.  The  old  man 
came  out  of  the  cabin.  Theodora  followed  him  with 
pitying  eyes. 

"■  Couldn't  you  go  with  him,  Ik  11  ?  He  seems  feeble  ; 
you  are  so  strong  and  so  quick  to  see  everything,  I  don't 
believe  but  you  could  help  him." 

"  I  will  see  if  I  caii,"  he  said,  rising  quickly,  but  not 
forgetting  to  draw  her  shawl  more  closely  around  her, 
with  a  caressing  motion. 

She  watched  them  getting  into  the  little  boat — the 
Captain,  an  oarsman,  the  father,  and  Bell.  The  oars  cut 
the  smooth,  dark  water  and  threw  it  up  in  silver  spray ; 
then  she  heard  the  keel  grate  on  the  sand,  and  presently 


364  THEODORA  !    A    HOME    STORY. 

the  yellow  light  of  a  lantern  shone  out  from  the  whitlows 
of  the  MTccked  cabin.  It  seemed  a  long  time  that  they 
were  gone,  and  she  walked  the  deck.  A  little  girl 
ran  out  from  the  cabin  and  danced  beside  her,  singing  in 
the  glee  of  her  heart : 

"  I  'm  going  to  Marietty  !  " 

Theodora  took  her  by  the  hand,  smiling  back  into  her 
happy  face,  but  the  mother  came  to  the  door  and  called : 

"  Annie  !  Come  in,  this  minute,  or  I  will  put  you 
right  off  the  boat."  The  little  thing  reluctantly  let  go 
her  new  friend's  hand  and  went  in.  "  You  mustn't  go 
pestering  strangers  that  way,"  the  mother  was  saying  as 
she  slannned  the  door  after  her, 

"  What  a  lesson  in  politeness  !  How  can  mothers  be 
so  to  their  children ! "  though  Theodora. 

She  went  in  and  took  the  little  maid  up  beside  her 
and  told  her  a  story.  By  the  time  she  was  through,  the 
"Water  Sprite  "  had  began  to  splash  again.  She  was  anxious 
to  hear  about  the  old  father's  quest,  and  since  Bell  had 
not  come  in,  went  outside  again  where  he  had  left  her. 
He  was  not  on  the  upper  deck,  but  as  she  leaned  over  the 
guards,  she  heard  him  talking  with  the  Captain  just 
beneath  her.     She  heard  the  Captain  say: 

"  You  had  better  tell  her  and  see  what  she  thinks," 
and  Bell  replied : 

"  Indeed,  Captain,  I  never  can  teU  her ;  you  must 
do  it." 

Their  voices  were  half  hushed,  as  if  it  was  something 
dreadful.  In  the  next  sentence,  she  caught  only  the 
words  "  Brother,"  and  "  Cincinnati."  Her  pulses  stood 
still.  Could  it  be — !  No  ;  perhaps  it  had  nothing  to  do 
with  her.     Again,  she  heard  Bell's  voice  saying  : 

"  Indeed,  Captain,  I  would  rather  be  shot  than  tell  her." 


DOWN    THE    EITEE.  365 

Slie  leaned  over  the  guards,  and  said  in  a  clear,  low 
voice : 

"Lieutenant  Bell,  will  you  come  to  me  a  moment, 
please  ? " 

A  sudden  silence  seized  the  group  below  her ;  Bell 
answered : 

"  Certainly,  Miss  Dora ; "  but  he  seemed  slow  to  come. 
When  he  did  appear,  he  smiled  and  spoke  rapidly : 

"  The  old  man  could  find  no  sign  of  his  daughter. 
Everything  that  floated  has  been  stowed  in  the  cabin  to 
be  identified ;  he  hopes  she  was  not  on  board  after  all." 

"  I  hope  so — poor  old  man  !  " 

"  Tell  me,  Bell,"  she  said,  taking  him  by  both  hands  and 
looking  straight  in  his  eyes,  "  who  is  it  that  you  would 
rather  be  shot  than  tell — something?  " 

His  eyes  tried  to  meet  hers,  but  wavered  and  turned 
aside.     It  was  she,  then  ! 

"  Oh,  tell  me.  Bell,  tell  me  truly,  just  what  it  is  ! " 

"  Perhaps  it  is  nothing  at  all.  This  is  all  that  made  us 
fear  there  was  something  wrong;"  he  took  out  of  his 
breast  pocket  a  card  photograph  and  showed  it  to  her. 
It  was  herself.  Her  heart  knocked  heavily  against  its 
walls. 

"  It  is  the  very  picture  I  had  taken  for  him,  the  week 
he  went  away,"  she  said ;  every  drop  of  color  left  her  face. 
"  What  else  did  you  find  ?  If  you  want  to  show  me  pity, 
Bell,  tell  me  everything ;  I  can  bear  anything ;  just  tell  me 
the  very  truth,  I  beg  of  you." 

She  was  trembhng,  and  he  placed  her  gently  in  a  chair 
as  he  answered : 

"  Upon  my  honor,  I  will  tell  you  just  everything  I 
know  about  it ;  it  is  little  enough.  There  were  a  great 
variety  of  things  that  had  been  in  the  cabin  or  been 


366  THEODORA :  a  home  story. 

washed  ashore ;  most  of  them  women's  garments.  I 
noticed  a  soldiei"'s  knapsack  in  the  heap,  and  looking  into 
it,  I  f  oimd  such  things  as  one  usually  carries  in  a  knapsack, 
and  in  the  corner  of  it,  this  picture,  in  an  envelope.  That 
is  every  sign  I  saw  that  your  brother  might  have  been 
aboard." 

"  I  ought  to  see  the  other  things  in  the  knapsack  ;  I 
might  recognize  something." 

"  The  Captain  has  it,  and  you  shall  look." 

"  I  did  not  understand  that  the  little  steamer  came 
from  Cincinnati ;  did  it  ? " 

"  So  they  tell  me." 

"  And  was  going  as  far  as  Wheeling  ? " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  as  if  he  hated  to  add  that  link  to 
the  chain  of  probabilities. 

She  dropped  her  face  into  her  hands,  and  Bell  went  to 
call  the  Captain,  who  came  and  brought  the  knapsack 
with  him.  There  was  but  little  in  it — nothing  which 
might  not  belong  to  one  soldier  as  well  as  another. 

"  Poor  boy  ! "  said  the  sister,  with  a  sigh.  "  He  had 
plenty  of  little  comforts  to  stoi*e  in  his  knapsack  when 
he  went  away,  but  he  would  not  have  much  left  after 
his  hfe  in  the  Prison." 

She  consulted  the  Captain  whether  it  would  not  be 
better  for  her  to  stop  at  the  next  town,  and  wait  to  see 
what  else  should  be  recovered  from  the  wreck. 

He  was  a  rough,  weatber-beaten  man  ;  but  she  felt 
he  had  a  kind,  fatherly  heart  when  he  first  came  up 
and  folded  his  large  warm  hand  over  hers,  without 
speaking. 

"  I  should  say.  Miss,  you  had  better  just  go  right  on  to 
Cincinnati,  and  learn  for  certain  whether  he  started.  I 
allow   it's   just   possible   there's   some    mistake."      She 


DOWN   THE   EIVEE.  367 

silently  blessed  tlie  sliaggy  moiitli  tliat  said  that.  "  Tou 
needn't  to  fear  but  wbat  everything  will  be  done  to  re- 
cover the  bodies ;  there's  too  many  follvs  lost  friends,  and 
they  will  stand  a  better  chance  of  finding  them  after  two 
or  three  days,  you  know."  Her  heart  writhed  away  from 
the  idea,  but  she  compelled  it  to  keep  still  and  listen. 
"  You  go  down  to  Cincinnati  and  make  mquiries,  and  if 
you  find  your  brother  was  on  the  '  Georgianna,'  you  just 
come  back  to  me ;  the  Lieutenant,  here,  tells  me  you  will 
be  all  alone.  My  home  is  in  Marietta  ;  anybody  will  tell 
you  where  Captain  Franks  hves.  You  come  right  to  me ; 
my  wife  '11  be  a  mother  to  you  ;  she's  up  to  all  that  kind 
of  thing.  We  '11  hunt  all  over,  and  if  there's  news  to  be 
had  about  your  brother  any  place,  we  '11  have  it." 

"  How  good  you  are ! "  she  said,  looking  up  to  him 
with  eyes  that  began  to  glisten  with  tears.  "  But  how 
do  I  know  that  he  was  not  among  the  number  rescued  by 
the  '  Eiver  Queen ' !  How  stupid  !  Why  didn't  I  think 
of  that  at  first  ? "  Hope  fiashed  up  and  shone  thi-ough 
her  face.  She  saw  the  two  men  exchange  glances,  but 
neither  spoke,  and  she  asked,  timidly,  "  Why  mightn't 
that  be  so  ? " 

"  I'm  right  sorry  to  tell  you  so ;  but  they  gave  us  a  list 
of  those  saved  on  the  '  River  Queen '  up  yonder  at  the 
Point.  Your  friend,  here,  has  looked  it  over,  and  he 
don't  find  your  brother's  name." 

She  began  to  put  the  things  back  in  the  knapsack,  took 
it  on  her  ai-m,  and  said,  quietly :  "  I  think  I  will  go  to 
my  state-room  now." 

"  I  '11  tell  the  stewardess  to  fetch  you  a  cup  of  tea," 
said  the  Captain.  Some  kind  hearts,  in  default  of  any- 
thing else  to  do  for  a  person  in  trouble,  always  think  of 
giving  tliem  something  to  eat  or  drink. 


368  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOEY. 

"  ISTo,  thank  yoii,  Captain,"  she  answered,  with  a  faint 
smile.     "  I  couldn't  take  it." 

Bell  gave  her  his  arm  and  walked  silently  to  her  door 
with  her.  He  held  her  hand  a  nioraent  at  parting.  "Was 
there  nothing  he  could  do  for  her  ?  She  shook  her  head, 
with  a  pale  smile,  and  said,  "  Good-night."  The  moment 
the  door  was  closed,  she  threw  herself  on  her  knees,  and, 
with  bursting  tears,  poured  out  her  troubled  soul  into 
that  mighty  Heart  of  Love  which  had  been  her  refuge 
and  strength  hitherto. 

Had  the  blessed  hope  come  so  near,  only  to  mock  them 
with  a  bitterer  loss  !  How  could  she  take  home — instead 
of  Donald — this  horrible  news !  Her  father  and  mother 
must  know  nothing  about  it  till  the  last  ray  of  hope  was 
put  out.  But  if  Miriam  were  only  there  to  help  her  bear 
it !  Or  Robert — oh,  if  liobert  were  only  there  !  But  no ; 
she  must  bear  what  was  to  be  borne,  and  do  what  was  to 
be  done — alone.     Yet  not  alone  !     Oh,  not  alone  ! 

The  Elder  Brother  was  with  her ;  neither  life  nor  death, 
nor  things  present,  nor  things  to  come  could  separate  her 
from  Him.  She  sank  low,  with  her  face  hidden  in  her 
folded  arms,  sobbing — "  Have  pity  on  me,  my  God  ! " 
Sweetly  the  old  words  stole  into  her  anguish,  "  Like  as  a 
father  pitieth  his  children,  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them  that 
fear  Him."  She  knew  her  father's  pity  would  enfold  her 
like  a  helpless  baby  if  he  could  see  her  distress,  and  she 
felt  that  she  and  all  her  trouble  were  taken  up  in  the 
arms  of  Eternal  Love  and  held  close  in  the  All-Father's 
bosom.  The  tumult  of  her  grief  began  to  subside.  "As 
one  whom  his  mother  comforteth,"  did  He  comfort  her. 
She  turned  the  leaves  of  her  Bible,  to  find  what  words 
He  had  for  her  ;  they  were  these  :  "  Feai-  not ; — thou  art 
mine.     When  thou  passest  thi'ough  the  waters,  I  will  be 


DOWN   THE   EIVEE.  369 

with  thee ;  and  through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  over- 
flow thee ;  when  thou  walkest  through  the  fire,  thou  shalt 
not  be  burned ;  neither  shall  the  flames  kindle  upon  thee." 
With  that  promise,  she  could  bear  anything  ! 

When  the  little  child  runs  to  his  mother  in  a  tempest 
of  crying,  she  takes  him  in  her  arms  and  kisses  his  hm-t, 
and  sweetly  soothes  him  till  he  masters  his  grief ;  but 
even  after  he  has  begun  to  smile,  looking  up  into  her 
face,  a  swelling  sob  will  heave  his  little  breast,  and  when 
he  has  dropped  asleep  in  peace,  the  tears  still  hang  on  his 
lashes. 

16* 


XXIX. 

ISHE     THERE? 

SOME  mornings  the  sun  finds  a  heavy  cloud  lower- 
ing to  swallow  up  his  light,  after  one  joyous  glance 
at  the  earth, 

Theodora's  waking  was  like  that.  Her  first  sensation 
was  the  same  light-hearted  hope  that  had  possessed  her 
through  the  yesterday,  but  the  next  moment  came  dark- 
ening down  upon  her  the  awful  discovery  of  the  evening. 
She  opened  her  eyes,  and  they  fell  on  that  fatal  photo- 
gi'aj)h.  She  remembered  it  all.  With  the  memory,  came 
back  the  strong  words  :  "  Fear  not ; — thou  art  mine." 
They  gave  her  no  assurance  that  the  calamity  had  not 
befallen  her,  but  they  made  her  strong  to  endure. 

The  boat  was  laj^ing  at  the  wharf  at  Parkersburg.  By 
the  time  she  was  ready,  the  stewardess  brought  her 
breakfast,  with  the  word : 

"  The  General  said  for  you  to  take  a  cup  of  coffee  and 
a  bit  of  chicken,  and  he  '11  be  back  right  soon," 

"  The  General  ? — oh,  Lieutenant  Bell.  He  has  gone 
ashore  ? " 

"  Yes,  Miss  ;  he  went  just  a  bit  ago — ^just  about  sun- 
up ;  I  seen  him  takin'  up  the  road  as  if  he  was  in  a  hurry, 
like.  Do  tell  me,  now !  I  allowed  he  must  be  a 
General ! " 

The  woman  stood,  with  her  arms  akimbo,  watching 
the  young  lady,  as  she  drank  her  coffee.  "  If  there 
(370) 


IS    HE   THERE  ?  371 

a'n't  chicken  enough  to  do  ye,  I  reckon  I  can  get  some 
more.  I  have  saw  a  man  this  morning  that  was  on  the 
'  River  Queen '  when  they  had  that  collision.  He  says 
the  water  was  that  full  of  folks'  faces  going  down,  holler- 
m'  for  help,  it  makes  him  sick  to  think  on  it.  I'm 
af eared  that  corn-cake  is  kind  o'  sad,  a'n't  it  ?  'Pears  like 
you  can't  make  out  your  breakfast." 

"  Plenty,  thank  you  ;  you  may  take  it  away." 

Bell  secured  the  horse  for  his  General,  made  arrange- 
ments for  its  dehvery,  and  was  back  in  time  to  cross  the 
river,  and  take  the  morning  train  for  Cincinnati  with 
her. 

It  was  a  trying  day  for  them  both.  Unless  he  could 
find  some  way  of  ministering  to  her  physical  comfort, 
Bell  seemed,  all  at  once,  dropped  out  of  her  life.  She 
had  been  so  charming  the  day  before,  and  they  had  en- 
joyed so  much  together !  He  wished  if  her  brother  was 
drowned,  she  had  not  found  it  out  till  she  reached  Cin- 
cinnati. 

As  for  Theodora,  she  knew  how  he  felt,  though  he  tried 
to  subdue  his  mood  to  hers.  For  his  sake,  she  made  the 
most  of  the  possibility,  so  pitifully  meager,  that  her  loss 
was  not  real  after  all.  Catching  at  that,  he  would  throw 
the  weight  off  his  buoyant  spirits,  and  indulge  in  his 
usual  jovial  strain  till  the  far-away  look  in  her  eyes  would 
suddenly  sober  him,  and  make  him  say  to  himself,  "  She 
must  think  I  am  a  bnite."  It  was  a  relief  to  them  both 
when  he  went  into  the  smoking-car. 

"When  he  was  gone,  she  wondered  at  herself.  Only 
last  evening,  as  they  sat  in  the  moonlight,  and  he  had 
made  his  half-iiery,  half-laughing  assaults  on  her  heart, 
though  she  gaily  repelled  them,  she  had  begun  to  con- 
sider surrender.     He  was  such  an  open-hearted,  affection- 


372  THEODORA :  a  home  stout. 

ate  fellow,  a  wife  could  do  almost  anything  with  liiin. 
"What  a  free,  joyous  air  there  was  about  him.  How 
proud  she  should  feel  to  see  hiui  in  any  crowd,  and  know 
he  was  hers !  The  sudden  shock  of  sorrow  had  wakened 
her  to  see  how  wide  apart  they  really  were.  To  him, 
"  everything  outside  this  world  was  an  utter  blank." 
For  her,  the  very  anchor  of  her  soul  was  fixed  in  realities 
outside  this  world.  They  could  laugh  and  chat  together. 
She  could  delight  in  his  gi*ace  and  sparkle  ;  but  in  the  still 
home-hours,  when  the  inmost  self  comes  out  of  her  sanc- 
tuary to  seek  response,  would  she  find  it  ?  In  the  mo- 
tives wl:(i#h  must  mould  a  home,  she  knew  they  were 
utterly  unlike.  Was  her  faith  so  vigorous  that  it  could 
take  ice  in  its  bosom  and  not  be  chilled  ?  Not  for  relig- 
ion's sake  only,  but  for  love's  sake,  could  she  bear  a  life- 
long lack  of  sympathy  in  what  she  held  most  vital  ? 
Then,  as  for  Bell  himself — was  she  full  of  the  Spirit  of 
Christ  that  she  dared  stake  his  soul's  welfare  on  her  daily 
life — seen  in  the  searching  light  of  married  intimacy  ? 

When  he  came  back  to  her,  and  through  the  day,  he 
felt  that  some  ban-isr  impalpable,  but  impassable,  had 
fallen  between  them. 

She  was  gentle,  frank,  confiding  as  ever,  but  all  the 
witchery  that  tempted  and  defied  his  lover-like  advances 
was  gone.  She  seemed  to  have  lifted  their  relations  over 
onto  the  gi'ound  of  simple  friendship.  The  patient  sweet- 
ness which  put  her  trouble  in  the  background  that  it 
might  not  oppress  him,  went  to  his  heart.  He  felt  a  new 
reverence  for  her  along  with  his  chagrin  in  seeing  her 
remove  from  his  reach  so  easily.  When  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  city  smoke,  and  she  looked  up  to  him,  say- 
ing :  "  I  am  so  glad  you  are  with  me.  Bell !"  he  felt 
as  if  thej  were  the  sweetest  words  he  ever  heard      It 


I 


IS    HE    THERE  ?  373 

was  something  to  be  her  protector  at  such  a  time.  Three 
mimites  after  the  cars  stopped,  he  had  her  in  a  hack  on 
her  way  to  the  hospital.  As  they  rattled  over  the  pave- 
ments, Bell  noticed  that  her  eyes  were  bright  and  her 
cheeks  flushed.  Suddenly  the  carnage  drew  up  before  a 
great  brick-building,  with  the  United  States  flag  flying 
over  it.  The  driver  sprang  from  his  box,  and  flung  open 
the  carriage-door,  with  "  Here  we  are,  sir !" 

Theodora  glanced  eagerly  up  at  the  many-windowed 
front,  as  if  she  could  tell  by  the  outside  whether  her  bro- 
ther was  within  or  not.     Bell  lifted  her  out. 

In  the  large  green  yard  were  many  tine  forest  trees. 
Under  these,  and  on  the  balcony,  many  soldiers  and  offi- 
cers were  lounging,  some  of  them  smoking  or  reading. 

Lieut.  Bell  obsei'ved  that  one  of  these  lifted  his  eyes 
from  his  newspaper,  looked  tixedly  at  Theodora,  dropped 
his  paper,  and  walked  slowly  down  the  path  to  meet 
them.  Could  that  be  her  brother  ?  No.  She  was  look- 
ing at  him  without  any  recognition.  When  he  met  them, 
the  oflicer  gave  Bell  the  military  salute,  then  lifting  his 
cap,  said  to  Theodora  : 

"  Excuse  me ;  is  this  Miss  Cameron  ?" 

"  Yes,  my  brother — " 

"  Is  better  to-day." 

The  color  which  ebbed  from  her  cheeks  and  lips  with 
the  question,  flowed  back  at  the  answer.  She  glanced  up 
at  Lieut.  Bell,  who  met  her  eyes  with  answering  gladness. 

"  Is  he  well  enough  to  see  me  at  once  ?"  she  asked  of 
the  stranger,  who  had  turned  to  join  them. 

"  Yes ;  he  is  not  well  enough  to  wait.  We  will  give 
him  a  moment  to  expect  you,  however.  Flynn,"  speak- 
ing to  an  attendant  they  met  on  the  steps,  "  go  tell  Lieut. 
Cameron  I  am  bringing  him  company." 


374  THEODOKA  :    A    UOilE    STORY. 

As  he  turned  from  tlie  man  to  speak  to  lier  again,  she 
noticed  a  scar  on  his  right  cheek.  Ilis  hair  was  shingled 
as  closelj  as  a  Zouave's,  and  his  clean-shaven  face,  though 
it  showed  a  refined  strength  in  its  feature,  was  sallow  and 
emaciated. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  if  you  will  come  up  our  long  stairs, 
leisurely,  Flynn  will  be  there  long  enough  before  you  !" 

"  Perhaps  I  had  better  leave  you  now,"  said  Lieut.  Bell, 
as  they  crossed  the  threshold.  "  Shall  I  have  your  trunk 
taken  to  the  Burnet  House,  and  call  around  for  you  by- 
and-by." 

"  Call  around  first,  please,  and  in  the  meanwhile  I  can 
see  what  is  to  be  done. 

"  But  you  are  obliged  to  go  on  to-night,  are  you  not  ?" 
she  asked  regretfully.  "  I  mustn't  trouble  you  any 
more." 

"  I  don't  know  about  the  '  obliged,'  "  he  said,  carelessly. 
"  I  shall  stay  if  I  can  be  of  any  service  to  you." 

"  Oh,  you  must  not  stay  for  me.  But  come  in  before 
you  go,  to  say  good-bye,  and  see  my  brother  a  moment." 

As  she  went  with  her  guide  up  the  long  stairways  and 
along  the  cori-idors,  she  was  charging  herself  not  to  seem 
shocked,  however  changed  Donald  might  look ;  not  to 
excite  him. 

On  the  third  flat,  they  turned  into  a  large  ward,  with 
beds  on  each  side.  The  room  was  high  and  airy,  and 
everything  looked  neat,  but  in  nearly  every  bed  was 
some  sufferer.  She  glanced  quickly  over  them,  but  did 
not  see  Donald. 

"  In  the  farthest  corner,"  whispered  the  officer. 

She,  followed  the  direction  of  his  eyes.  Against  the 
white  pillows  of  the  farthest  bed,  she  saw  a  ghastly  face. 
The  whole  anatomy  of  it  could  be  seen  under  the  tightly- 


IS    HE   THERE  ?  375 

drawn,  yellow  skin,  Nothing  reminded  lier  of  Donald 
except  two  eyes  that  shone  out  like  stars,  and  di-ew  her 
towards  him.  Her  heart  gave  a  silent  cry  as  if  it  were 
bruised. 

She  forgot  all  abont  the  '  excitement ' ;  she  darted  for- 
ward and  threw  her  arms  around  him,  sobbing  and  trem- 
bHng,  and  stroking  his  sunken  cheek  with  her  pitying 
hand, 

"  I  mustn't  use  you  all  up,  the  first  thing,"  she  said  at 
last,  with  one  more  kiss,  raising  herself,  and  wiping  the 
tears  from  her  eyes  and  then  from  his.  "  We  must  save 
all  your  strength  to  go  home  with," 

It  suddenly  occurred  to  her  that  the  roomful  of  men 
behind  her  had  been  spectators  of  their  meeting,  but 
somehow  she  did  not  care.  She  did  not  know  how  home- 
sick it  made  the  poor  fellows. 

"  How  is  mother,  and  father,  and  the  girls  ? "  asked 
Donald,  in  a  voice  Avhich  sounded  sweetly  natural,  and  yet 
weaker  than  his.  "  Has  anything  happened  to  Robert  ? 
Tell  me  everything !     I  am  starving  to  hear." 

"  Yes,  I  will.  We  shall  have  such  nice  long  talks.  I 
will  be  very  good,  and  not  ask  you  any  questions  until 
you  grow  strong,'' 

He  made  her  sit  on  the  bedside,  close  beside  him, 
where  his  wasted  hands  could  hold  hers,  plump  and  warm, 
or  could  play  languidly  with  something  about  her  dress 
His  eyes  feasted  on  her  face,  while  she  talked  in  a  low, 
sweet  voice,  telling  him  a  hundred  dear,  homely  trifles, 

"  What  has  become  of  your  beautiful  hair  and  beard  ?'' 
she  asked,  laying  her  hand  on  his  head. 

"  Oh,  we  were  such  filthy  wretches,  when  we  came  in, 
we  were  only  too  glad  to  get  shaved  and  clipped  as  clean- 
ly as  we  could.     I  should  have  been  glad  to  take  off  my 


376  THEODORA:    A    HOME   STORY. 

skin  if  I  could.  Yon  would  not  have  owned  me  if  you 
had  seen  me  then.  Yile  !  "  He  ended  with  a  grimace 
of  disgust. 

"  Yes,  I  would  if  you  had  looked  like  a  Hottentot. 
Never  mind.  You  shall  be  sweet  and  clean  enough  the 
rest  of  your  life  to  make  up  for  it." 

That  look  showed  with  what  loathing  he  thought  of 
his  imprisonment,  and  she  resolved  not  to  remind  him 
of  it. 

"  Don't  you  think  we  can  start  for  home  in  a  day  or 
two  %  "  he  asked,  anxiously. 

"  I  don't  know  yet  how  much  you  can  bear.  "Will  they 
let  me  stay  here  with  you  till  you  go  ? " 

"  I  asked  the  head  nurse  about  that,  but  he  was  pretty 
wary.  He  didn't  know  what  kind  of  a  girl  you  were, 
though.  You  will  get  the  riglit  side  of  him,  and  he  won't 
interfere  with  you.  You  talk  with  the  surgeon  when  he 
comes,  won't  you?     It  will  be  as  he  says." 

"  Yes,  indeed.  I'll  coax  him,  and  cajole  him,  and  make 
him  consent." 

"  You  will  have  to  go  away  at  six  o'clock  every  even- 
ing, anyhow ;  but  Yiuce  thinks  he  can  find  a  boarding- 
place  for  you  near  by." 

"  Who  is  Yince  ?" 

"  Yince  ?  He  is  my  companion  in  tribulation,  my  com- 
rade in  escape,  my  best  fellow  in  the  world." 

She  noticed  that  he  was  getting  tired,  and  sat  still,  hold- 
ing his  poor,  thin  hand  in  hers. 

Presently  the  officer  who  had  shown  her  up,  came  from 
the  other  end  of  the  ward,  and  said : 

"  It  is  time  to  take  your  medicine,  Don." 

"  Come  here,  Yince — come  and  be  introduced  to  my 
sister.     Theodora,  this  is  Colonel  Rolfe.'' 


IS    HE   THERE  ?  377 

"  What !  Not  your  Antietam  colonel  ? "  she  excMraed, 
in  pleased  sui-prise,  as  she  gave  him  her  hand. 

"  The  very  same.     Isn't  it  odd  '  " 

"  And  is  he  your  '  companion  in  tribulation,'  and  so 
forth  % " 

"  He  and  no  other.'' 

"  And  you  are  the  young  lady,  I  believe,  whose  line 
and  bandages  stanched  this  ugly  hole,"  said  liolfe,  touch- 
ing the  scar  in  his  cheek,  which,  as  it  happened,  did  not 
disfigure  him,  although  it  was  evident  enough. 

He  gave  Donald  a  few  drops  of  medicine,  and  as  he 
laid  down  the  Sj^Toon,  said  : 

"  Mrs.  Brown  can  accommodate  your  sister,  if  the  place 
suits  her." 

"  You  have  been  over  to  see  ? ''  asked  Donald. 

"  Yes." 

"  You  were  very  kind  to  attend  to  it,"  said  Theodora. 

"  Just  like  him,"  observed  her  brother. 

"  It  is  only  around  the  corner." 

She  had  no  doubt  the  place  would  suit  her  well  enough, 
since  it  was  so  near,  if  the  price  was  not  extravagant. 
Donald  must  not  be  troubled  with  the  idea  that  she  could 
not  afford  whatever  was  needed  for  his  comfort.  So  she 
said  at  once  that  she  would  go  there  at  any  rate  for  the  night. 

"Don't  go,  Yince,"  said  Donald,  as  he  tamed  to  leave 
them.     "  We  don't  mind  you." 

"  Do  stay,"  said  Theodora,  seeing  that  her  brother 
really  wished  it,  though,  for  herself,  she  would  much 
rather  have  had  him  away.  She  found,  as  Donald  drew 
hhn  into  their  talk,  however,  that  he  seemed  to  know 
nearly  as  much  about  their  home-life  as  they  did. 

In  a  few  minutes.  Lieutenant  Bell's  card  was  brought 
for  Miss  Cameron. 


378  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOET. 

"  You  have  to  go  again  so  soon  ! "  exclaimed  Donald, 
with  a  frown. 

"  Only  for  a  few  minutes,  to  say  good-bye." 

"  Let  him  come  here.  That  will  be  better  than  for 
you  to  go  down  all  those  stairs.  Send  Flynn  for  him, 
can't  you,  Yince  ?  " 

Colonel  RoKe  looked  to  Theodora  for  her  consent,  and 
she  said : 

"  I  should  like  that,  if  it  won't  tire  Donald." 

Flynn  was  dispatched ;  but  the  moment  after,  she  said : 

"  I  vn]\  just  go  and  meet  him."  And  drawing  her  hand 
out  of  her  brother's,  went  out  into  the  corridor. 

"  He  must  be  a  very  particular  friend,"  thought  Rolfe. 
But  she  only  wished  to  warn  him  against  any  allusion 
to  her  alarm  on  the  river. 

"  This  Pelham  Bell  is  an  old  Yirginia  friend  of  my 
sister's,"  said  Donald.  "  I  have  some  curiosity  to  see  him ; 
and  I  declare,"  he  added,  as  she  entered  the  lower  end  of 
the  ward  with  him,  "  he  is  something  to  see  !  " 

The  aide-de-camp's  remarkably  tall  figure  and  handsome 
face  drew  all  eyes  as  he  passed  up  the  room.  His  uniform 
was  showy,  his  sword-hilt  elegant,  his  sash  of  the  richest 
dye.  As  Donald  told  his  sister  aftei-wards,  he  lighted  up 
the  room  like  a  Christmas-tree. 

It  was  with  a  shai-p  pang  that  Theodora  noted  the  con- 
trast, as  he  bent  over  to  take  her  brother's  hand.  He  so 
strong,  so  full  of  lusty  life,  and  her  Donald  so  wan  and 
ghastly. 

Bell  evidently  felt  it  himself.  As  he  sat  down  by  the 
bedside,  he  seemed  constrained  and  silent,  for  him.  This 
would  not  do,  and  to  get  conversation  afloat,  she  told  him 
the  incident  of  her  brother's  first  acquaintance  with  Rolfe, 
whom  she  had  just  introduced. 


IS    HE   THERE  ?  879 

"  But  Colonel  Kolf e  had  met  you  before  to-day  ? "  To 
her. 

"!No.  How  hi  the  world  did  you  recognize  me?"  she 
asked,  tm'uing  to  him. 

"  From  your  photograph — along  with  the  fact  that  you 
were  expected,''  answered  Rolfe. 

"  Did  you  know  her  without  being  told  ?"  asked  Don- 
ald, looking  pleased. 

"  The  moment  I  was  out  of  the  carriage  he  came  to 
meet  me  as  if  I  was  an  old  friend.'' 

"  Good !  I  didn't  suppose  the  old  photograph  was 
good  enough  for  that.  Let  us  look  at  it  again  with  the 
original.  They  are  in  the  pocket  of  my  Bible,  Yince. 
Please  hand  it  to  rne."  He  began  to  open  the  fold  of 
the  book,  but  his  w^hite  lingers  trembled,  and  his  sister 
took  it  from  him.  It  was  the  Bible  their  father  had 
given  him  just  as  he  went  away.  Its  gilded  edges  were 
worn  and  crumpled,  and  the  book  smelt  of  gunpowder 
and  tobacco-smoke  and  what  not. 

"  That  is  the  only  thing  I  had  in  prison  with  me  that 
hasn't  gone  into  the  fii-e,"  said  Donald. 

She  drew  out  the  familiar  pictures — father,  mother, 
Robert,  Miriam,  Faith,  and  Jessie — all  but  her  own. 
She  showed  him  that  the  pocket  was  empty. 

"  Where  can  it  be  ?"  He  turned  the  leaves  to  look  for 
it.  "  I  haven't  so  many  possessions  as  to  lose  them  very 
easily.  I  haven't  looked  at  the  pictures  since  I  have  been 
expecting  you." 

"  Have  you  had  them  out  since  Walton  was  here  ?" 
asked  Kolfe. 

"  Ben  Walton  must  have  earned  that  off,"  said  Don- 
ald, looking  up  as  if  a  sudden  thought  had  struck  him. 
"  Don't  you  know  how  he  teased  me  for  it  ?     He  said  I 


380  THEODORA  t    A    ROME   STORY. 

could  get  anotlier  easily  enough.  The  scamp  I  He  must 
have  taken  it." 

Theodora  felt  Bell's  eyes  trying  to  catch  hers,  but 
would  not  look  at  him.  She  asked  as  coolly  as  she  could, 
"  When  was  he  here  ?" 

"  One  day,  lately ;  when  was  it,  Yince  V^ 

"  Monday  evening." 

"  His  time  was  up,  and  he  was  to  start  for  home  the 
next  day.  He  had  no  business  to  steal  that  photo- 
graph." 

"  Never  mind ;  you  shall  have  a  better  one." 

"  No  other  will  be  like  that ;  those  pictures  and  that 
book,  and  that  young  man,  there,  were  all  the  comf oi-ts 
I  had  for  seven  months." 

"  And  who  is  this  thief  ? "  asked  Bell.  "  We  will  ar- 
rest him  if  he  is  anywhere  this  side  of  Hades." 

"  Oh,  he  is  one  of  my  sister's  old  admirers,"  answered 
Donald.  "  I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  willing  to  let  him 
have  it — poor  soul !" 

Theodora  hardly  heard  the  banter  which  Bell  opened 
upon  her.  If  poor  Ben  "Walton  went  down  on  board  the 
"  Georgianna,"  must  she  be  the  bird  of  ill-omen  to  carry 
the  sad  news  to  his  family  ?  He  still  cared  enough  for 
her,  then,  to  wish  for  her  picture  !  Her  heart  smote  her 
for  all  the  pain  she  had  unwillingly  given  him. 

The  surgeon  came,  and  Bell  rose  to  leave. 

"  I  must  bid  you  good-bye,  then,  with  a  heartful  of 
thanks,"  said  Theodora. 

"  No  ;  I'll  not  go  to-morrow." 

She  looked  surprised,  for  she  knew  he  was  under  or- 
ders to  return  as  soon  as  the  business  which  he  had  in 
hand  was  done. 

"  Oh,  there  are  horses  that  can  be  looked  at  in  Cin- 


IS    HE   THERE  ?  381 

cinnati  stables,"  lie  said,  smiling,  and  stroking  his  beard. 
"  I  might  suit  the  General  still  better,  perhaps," 

He  saw  she  did  not  like  it,  but  he  was  determined  to 
stay.  Citj  was  more  agreeable  than  camp  ;  he  had  found 
old  friends  at  his  hotel.  More  than  all,  he  was  unwilling 
to  leave  her  an  hour  sooner  than  he  was  compelled.  Be- 
fore they  reached  the  hospital,  he  had  felt  that  her  life 
was  too  serious,  too  earnest  for  him.  She  could  be  his 
good  angel,  not  his  lady-love.  But  now  that  everything 
was  bright  again,  and  his  desire  for  her  favor  was  piqued 
by  the  thought  of  that  devoted  "  old  admu-er ''  and  the 
swarms  of  young  officers  here,  where  she  was  likely  to 
spend  some  weeks,  he  was  not  disposed  to  go  away. 

"  How  like  him  ! "  thought  Theodora,  as  he  went  out 
with  an  "  Au  revoir !"  "  '  Pleasure  first  and  duty  after- 
ward ! ' " 

As  he  went  out,  the  evening  edition  of  the  Gazette  was 
brought  in,  and  Theodora  was  relieved  by  discovering  in 
the  list  of  passengers  of  the  "  Georgianna"  rescued  by  the 
"River  Queen,''  the  name  of  B.  F.  Walton. 

The  surgeon  was  easily  persuaded  to  promise  that  his 
sister  should  be  Donald's  day-nurse  while  she -stayed,  but 
the  six  o'clock  signal  soon  sent  her  away  for  that  night. 
Her  brother's  eyes  followed  her  longingly ;  but  as  she 
turned  at  the  door  of  the  ward  for  a  good-bye  glance,  his 
eyehds  were  already  closed,  and  his  face  had  such  a  death- 
like look  that  she  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  what  might 
happen  over  night.  As  she  stood  at  the  window  of  the 
doctor's  office  waiting  to  speak  with  him,  she  felt  as  if 
there  were  an  empty  place  where  her  heart  ought  to  be. 

There  was  no  disease  upon  him,  the  surgeon  said ;  it 
was  simply  the  effect  of  hardships  and  walking  such  dis- 
tances when  he  w.i,^  only  fit  to  be  in  bed.     He  might 


382  TnEODOKA :  a  home  story. 

rally ;  he  hoped  he  would ;  but,  of  course,  it  was  uncertain. 
The  Colonel  had  gained  eveiy  hour  since  they  came  in; 
remarkable  constitution. 

Could  he  be  taken  home  ? 

"  Let  me  see — where  does  he  belong  ?"  asked  the  sur- 
geon, selecting  a  cigar  from  the  stand  on  his  mantel. 

"  In  Yermont." 

He  shook  his  head.  "  Couldn't  stand  it  for  a  month 
or  two  yet,  at  any  rate.  If  he  should  pick  up,  he  might, 
perhaps,  in  that  time." 

He  stood  with  his  cigar  between  his  first  and  second 
fingers,  civilly  impatient,  she  thought,  for  her  to  be  gone, 
so  that  he  could  light  it.  An  old  man  was  waiting  to 
consult  him.  As  the  doctor  bowed  her  out,  and  was 
closing  the  door,  she  heard  him  saying,  "  I  hope  your  son 
has  made  up  his  mind  to  have  that  leg  amputated."  So 
she  had  left  an  aching  heart  behind  her. 

Colonel  RoKe  was  waiting  to  show  her  to  her  board- 
ing-place. She  walked  beside  him  without  speaking,  till 
they  stood  on  the  door-step  waiting  for  some  one  to  an- 
swer the  bell.  Then  she  looked  up  to  him  appeahngly, 
and  asked : 

"  What  jjlo  you  think  ?  You  have  been  Avith  him  aU 
the  while ;  can  he — ^he  can  get  well  ?" 

"  I  think  so,"  he  said,  gravely,  yet  hopefully.  "  I  do 
not  believe  he  has  borne  up  so  bravely  all  this  time  to 
succmnb  now  he  has  come  safely  to  land." 

The  door  opened,  revealing  a  boarding-house  smell  of 
the  most  composite  character,  and  a  good-natured  German 
damsel  showed  them  in.  Eolfe  took  leave  as  soon  as  he 
had  delivered  his  charge  to  the  talkative  landlady,  and 
Theodora  was  thankful  to  get  to  her  own  room  and  lock 
the  door  on  eveiybody. 


IS    HE   THERE  ?  383 

To  be  free  to  throw  herself  down  on  the  bed,  and  cry- 
hard,  was  a  relief  she  sorely  needed.  "  Oh,  my  darling  ! 
my  poor,  poor  darling ! "  she  sobbed,  clutching  the  pil- 
low, and  pressing  her  face  into  it.  The  vision  of  those 
hollow  temples  and  cheeks — the  dark,  heavy  rings  around 
his  eyes — the  beating  pulse  in  his  neck — that  strange, 
yellow,  leather-like  skin — made  her  shiver.  "  Oh,  my 
beautiful  Donald !  How  could  they — oh,  how  could 
they !  Poor,  dear,  brave,  patient  darling !  Oh,  God  ! 
have  pity !  Remember  poor  father  and  mother !  Oh, 
God !  do  not  let  him  die  ! ''  She  cried  till  her  eye-balls 
burned  and  her  throat  ached ;  but  she  felt  better  for  it. 
Mrs.  Brown  sent  for  her  to  come  down  to  tea.  She 
thought  she  could  not ;  then  she  remembered  that  a 
nurse  must  keep  strong  and  well;  so  she  washed  and 
brushed,  and  went  down  to  eat  what  she  could,  while  her 
hostess  dilated  on  the  tragical  scenes  she  had  witnessed 
in  the  hospital. 

Her  trunk  came  presently,  by  Bell's  order,  and  he 
called  in  the  evening;  but-  she  excused  herself.  She 
wrote  a  long  letter  home,  telling  as  cheerful  a  story  as  she 
could  without  lying. 

As  soon  as  she  was  allowed  next  morning,  she  was  by 
Donald's  bed-side,  and  felt  reassured.  The  nurse  said  he 
looked  better  than  he  had  ever  seen  him  before. 

As  she  became  used  to  his  sadly-altered  looks,  and 
could  compare  him  every  day  with  his  worst  estate,  in- 
stead of  that  bright  being  they  had  lost,  she  gi'ew  more 
hopeful.  She  could  see  that  he  grew  a  little  stronger — • 
that  the  unnatural  color  was  changing,  and  the  shadows 
in  his  face  grooving  less  dark.  She  kept  cheerful  and 
bright,  with  him ;  but  the  tears  would  often  come  into 
her  eyes,  in  spite  of  herself,  when  she  fed  him. 


384  THEODOKA  :    A    HOilE    STOKY. 

She  took  great  pleasure  in  preparing  delicious  meals 
for  him.  Beside  all  that  the  hospital  afforded,  the  Cin- 
cinnati ladies  were  lavish  in  their  kind  offers,  so  that  she 
could  easily  get  whatever  he  liked.  It  was  pitif vd  to  see 
how  ravenous  he  was.  She  persuaded  his  friend  Rolfe 
to  let  her  cater  for  him  too,  and  the  three  had  merry 
times  over  the  little  tray  beside  Donald's  bed,  as  she 
served  up  one  delicacy  after  another  to  her  hungry  he- 
roes. Another  pleasant  time  in  the  day  was  just  before 
she  went  away  at  night.  Her  brother  had  asked  her  to 
sing  him  one  old  song,  the  first  day,  and  after  that  all  the 
men  in  the  ward  begged  for  it ;  so  that  she  fell  into  the 
habit  of  singing  for  them  every  afternoon.  Many  of 
them  looked  forward  to  that  time  as  the  one  pleasure  of 
their  weary  day. 

She  felt  annoyed  about  Bell.  On  one  pretext  and 
another,  he  lingered,  all  the  while  losing  ground  where 
he  hoped  to  gain  it.  Beautiful  flowers,  gracefid  gallant- 
ries, and  witty  speeches  could  not  make  her  forget  that 
he  had  no  right  to  be  there.  His  division  were  on  their 
rugged  march  to  Chattanooga,  and  he  ought  to  be  with 
them.  He  called  often  at  the  hospital,  where  she  spent 
the  day.  One  day,  when  he  dropped  in  to  see  her,  just 
after  dinner,  his  brandied  breath  braught  down  upon 
him  such  an  eloquent  temperance  lecture,  that  he  said  to 
himself,  "  There  would  be  no  getting  along  with  her 
Puritanical  notions ! "  Yet  he  called  again,  as  usual, 
just  in  time  to  hear  her  sing  and  walk  around  to  her 
boarding-place  with  her.  The  patients  in  the  ward  called 
him  "  Miss  Cameron's  beau  "  ;  but  he  was  not  at  all  sat- 
isfied with  his  position.  When  he  visited  her  in  the 
evening,  he  invariably  found  more  or  less  of  the  Misses 
Brown  in  the  parlor,  nothing  loth  to  share  the  call  of  so 


IS    HE   THERE  ?  385 

handsome  an  officer.  He  suspected  Theodora  of  eomiiv- 
aiice  in  this  arrangement,  though  she  never  would  con- 
fess. He  saw  she  Avas  making  friends  every  day,  aud  he 
did  not  like  it.  He  upbraided  her  with  caring  more  for 
new  friends  than  old  ones ;  not  so  much  because  he  be- 
lieved it,  as  because  he  liked  to  see  her  resent  it.  It 
vexed  him  that  he  could  never  get  a  chance  to  see  her 
ten  minutes  alone. 

Positively  the  last  day  came.  The  aide-de-camp  ap- 
peared, with  an  elegant  turn-out,  to  take  Miss  Cameron 
driving.  The  day  was  delightful.  He  would  be  off  for 
the  wars  to-morrow,  and  he  wanted  to  show  her  some  of 
the  line  places  about  the  city. 

It  looked  tempting  to  the  tired  girl,  and  only  one  thing 
stood  in  the  way  :  There  was  an  undefinable  but  un- 
mistakable something  in  his  face  and  manner  that  made 
her  morally  certain  that  if  she  went  on  that  drive  she 
should  be  obliged  to  promise  or  refuse  to  marry  him — ^no 
woman,  with  a  woman's  instinct,  could  have  helped 
knowing  it.  There  was  no  longer  the  least  question  in 
her  mind  what  her  answer  should  be,  if  she  were  forced 
to  give  one.  She  could  not  trust  Pelham  Bell  enough  to 
allow  herself  to  love  him.  But  she  was  his  true  friend. 
She  did  not  want  to  give  him  the  pain  and  chagiin  of  a 
rejected  lover.  She  believed  his  light  nature  would 
throw  off  the  passion,  and  his  good  sense  would  help  him  to 
accept  things  as  they  were,  if  he  was  once  away  from  her. 
Then  they  could  keep  the  old  friendship,  unembittered 
by  the  remembrance  of  that  question  asked  and  answered. 

All  this  was  thought  during  the  moment  that  she  stood 
in  the  broad  door  of  the  hospital,  looking  at  his  gay  span, 
soldiers  passing  in  and  out,  while  he  asked  her  to  go.    His 
eager  eyes  were  reading  her  face. 
17 


386  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STOKY. 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  yon,  Bell,  and  it  looks  charming ; 
but  I  shall  have  to  deny  myself.  Donald  misses  me 
every  moment  I  am  away,  I  find." 

"  But  it  won't  do  for  you  to  shut  youi-self  up  so.  I 
am  sure  he  would  like  you  to  go.  Let  me  ask  him  — " 
starting  witli  the  word. 

"  No,  Bell,"  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm ;  "  he  would 
say  '  Yes,'  of  course,  though  he  did  want  me ;  but  I  am 
quite  sure  it  isn't  best."  She  spoke  decidedly,  but  with- 
out lifting  her  eyes  to  his  face. 

He  was  always  quick  to  catch  her  motive,  and  he  di- 
vined it  now.  He  felt  thwarted  and  vexed,  and  said, 
rather  spitefully,  as  he  turned  to  go  : 

"  I  hope  you  will  have  a  delightful  morning  with  your 
brother  and  Colonel  Rolfe.'' 

"  Oh,  Bell ! "  Her  tone  was  so  reproachful  that  he 
could  not  help  looking  at  her ;  and,  seeing  the  flush  on 
her  cheek  and  the  hurt  expression  of  her  truthful  lips,  he 
relented. 

"  I  suppose  I  am  cross.  Miss  Dora ;  but,  maybe,  you 
will  be  sorry  when  you  hear  that  a  bullet  has  gone 
through  my  faithful  heart." 

Tliere  was  such  an  od4  mixture  of  joke  and  earnest  in 
this  upbraiding,  that  she  laughed,  and  answered  : 

"  Or,  more  likely,  when  I  hear  you  have  been  made 
Major-General  for  your  eminent  services." 

"  You  wouldn't  much  care  which  happened  to  me,"  he 
said,  sullenly,  putting  his  thumbs  in  his  pockets,  and 
walking  slowly  down  the  steps. 

"  You  know  better.  Bell ;  you  know  I  care  from  my 
heart,"  she  said,  walking  beside  him  down  the  path  ; 
"  you  have  not  a  better  friend  in  tlie  world." 

"  Not  much  good  your  friendship  does  me,  if  you  will 


IS    HE    THERE  ?  387 

not  let  me  write  to  yon,  nor  stay  with  yon,  nor  even  take 
you  to  drive." 

"  Your  friendship  does  me  good,  Bell,  even  so.  It  is 
a  comfort  to  me  to  know  you  believe  in  me,  and  you  care 
what  becomes  of  me,  though  I  neither  see  nor  hear  from 
you." 

The  sweet  sincerity  of  her  tone  was  irresistible.  He 
looked  down  at  her,  and  met  a  warm,  faithful  heart  look- 
ing out  of  her  blue  eyes,  offering  him  a  loyal,  life-long 
friendship  instead  of  the  love  he  coveted.  Better  that 
than  nothing ! 

A  pang  of  deep,  strong  feeling  crossed  his  face,  as  his 
hope  gave  up  the  ghost.     He  took  her  hand,  and  said : 

"  You  are  an  angel,  Dora  !  " 

"  God  bless  you,  Bell,"  she  responded  warmly. 

He  kissed  her  hand — to  the  edification  of  the  wooden- 
looking  sentry  who  was  pacing  before  the  gate,  then 
suddenly  dropped  it  with  a  manful  "  Good-bye,"  and 
sprang  into  the  carriage. 

The  prancing  span  bounded  away,  the  moment  he  took 
up  the  reins ;  and  he  did  not  turn  his  head.  She  stood 
sending  silent  blessings  after  him,  till  he  disappeared 
down  the  street. 


^ 


XXX. 

AN    ACQUAINTANCE     MADE. 

LIFE  creeping  back  into  Donald  Cameron's  exhausted 
frame,  seemed  to  chafe  along  its  old  channels  as  if 
fretting  at  the  abuse  they  had  suffered.  Whatever  of 
strength,  and  help,  and  calm  can  be  supplied  by  one 
person  to  another,  his  sister  ministered  to  him.  She  was 
in  vigorous  health ;  she  read  his  wants  with  the  quick 
instinct  of  love ;  her  patient  devotion  knew  no  hmit ;  but 
after  all,  she  could  not  lift  the  burden  of  languor  and 
distress  any  more  than  she  could  pour  her  blood  into  his 
veins. 

After  the  first  exhilaration  of  her  coming  had  died 
away,  and  he  knew  it  was  impossible  to  go  home  for  the 
present,  he  sank  back  into  a  meek,  helpless  endurance  so 
utterly  unlike  the  buoyant  fortitude  natural  to  him,  that 
it  made  her  heart  ache. 

]^ews  from  home,  or  from  the  war,  would  enliven  him 
for  a  little,  and  then  he  would  sink  back  into  a  listless 
torpor.  Sometimes  his  friend  Rolfe  succeeded  in  rousing 
him  to  some  interest  by  living  over  again  the  excitement 
of  that  night  when  they  slipped  between  the  sleepy  guards, 
and  dropped  from  the  platform  of  the  slowlj'-moving 
train — that  delicious  whifi  of  freedom,  as  they  ran  between 
the  rustling  rows  of  broom-corn,  while  the  cars  ruml)led 
on  with  their  wretched  freight — the  queer  scenes  in 
negro   cabins,   where   any   favors   done   fugitive   slaves 


AN   ACQUAINTANCE   MADE.  389 

on  the  underground  railroad  were  gladly  repaid — the 
hair-breadth  escapes,  and  Unally  the  sight  of  the  old 
flag. 

"  I  thought  my  heart  would  burst  when  I  saw  that," 
said  Donald ;  and  his  sister  rejoiced  to  see  a  little  color 
steal  into  his  cheeks  at  the  recollection.  "  And  you,  old 
fellow,  there  were  tears  in  your  eyes  for  once." 

Those  clear,  steady,  grey  eyes  did  not  look  as  if  they 
knew  what  tears  were. 

Theodora  had  not  that  disagreeable  disposition  which 
whets  its  own  griefs  on  the  good  fortune  of  others,  yet 
she  could  not  help  feeling  the  contrast  painfully,  as 
she  saw  this  fellow-prisoner  of  her  brother's  moving  about 
with  a  firmer  step,  and  a  healthier  face  every  day. 

At  last  there  came  back  just  strength  enough  to  make 
the  weakness  intolerably  ii-ksome.  That  brought  an 
irritabihty  as  unnatural  to  him  as  the  languor.  The  first 
day  of  that  sort  was  a  hard  one  for  his  loving  nurse. 
Nothing  she  could  do  suited  him.  No  position  she  could 
help  him  to  was  right.  She  tried  everything  she  could 
think  of  to  make  him  comfortable,  and  at  last,  in  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon,  he  fell  into  a  dose.  She  went, 
as  she  often  did,  to  minister  to  some  other  sufferer  near 
them.     It  was  not  five  minutes  before  he  called  her  back. 

"  I  wish  you  would  send  one  of  the  nm'ses  here  if  you 
must  needs  go  off,"  he  said  sharply. 

It  was  the  first  unkind  thing  he  had  ever  said  to  her, 
and  it  hurt  cruelly.  Even  when  they  were  children, 
though  he  often  hectored  her,  after  the  fashion  of  youug 
brothers,  he  was  never  cross. 

"  I  thought  you  were  asleep,  dear,"  she  said  gently  ; 
and  taking  her  place  by  the  head  of  his  bed,  she 
began  to  brush  his  hair,  which  was  growing  again,  as 


390  TIIEODOKA  :    A    HOME    STOEY. 

thick  and  wavy  as  ever.  He  could  not  see,  as  she  stood, 
that  her  soft  lips  were  pressed  together,  to  keep  them 
from  trembling.  He  had  no  idea  how  her  tired  back  and 
feet  were  aching  from  being  all  day  on  the  alert,  to  wait 
npon  him,  nor  how  pained  she  felt  that  her  half -worshipped 
Donald  could  be  impatient  and  unreasonable  towards  her. 
Still  less  could  she  imagine  in  her  sound,  healthy  body, 
the  thousand  stings  his  exasperated  nerves  were  sticking 
into  his  patience.  Her  magnetic  touch  soothed  him, 
however,  and  she  busied  herself  about  him,  in  some  way, 
till  the  signal  came  for  all  outsiders  to  leave.  "  Then  she 
kissed  him  good-night,  more  tenderly  than  ever. 

Col.  Eolfe  was  lying  on  the  grass  under  a  tree  as 
she  went  out.  He  sprang  up  and  came  to  walk  with  her. 
He  had  never  done  it  before,  since  that  first  night  when  he 
showed  her  the  way.  She  wished  he  would  not  now. 
She  did  not  feel  like  talking. 

As  they  turned  on  to  the  side-walk,  they  met  a  small 
child  running  away,  yelhng  disgracefully,  while  the  mor- 
tified mother  was  chasing  him  at  a  fast  walk,  evidently 
distracted  between  the  shame  of  running  to  capture  him 
by  force,  and  the  fear  of  his  getting  away  from  her 
altogether.  Rolfe  stooped  and  opened  his  arms  so  that 
the  little  fugitive  ran  right  into  them.  The  urchin 
stopped  crying  in  sheer  amazement,  as  he  found  himself 
lifted  to  the  oflicer's  shoulder.  The  mother  came  up 
flushed  and  panting,  pouring  out  thanks  to  the  Colonel 
and  reproofs  to  the  child  in  her  native  German.  Theo- 
dora understood  her  face  much  better  than  her  words, 
but  Col.  E-olfe  answered  her  pleasantly  in  her  own  lan- 
guage, and  was  about  to  hand  over  the  runaway,  but  the 
little  fellow  was  too  well-pleased  with  his  lofty  perch  to 
give  it  up.     He  could  not  talk,  but  he  clung  stoutly 


AN   ACQUAmTANCE   MADE.  391 

around  the  Colonel's  neck,  and  shook  his  flaxen  head  with 
all  his  might. 

His  mother's  upbraiding  was  received  with  the  utmost 
composure.  Colonel  Rolfe  asked  the  woman  some  ques- 
tion, which  she  answered ;  then,  turning  to  Theodora  with 
a  smile,  he  said : 

"  They  live  only  a  square  down  the  street,  and  I  have 
a  mind  to  give  the  little  scamj)  a  ride,  if  you  don't  ob- 
ject." 

"  Oh,  I  think  it  is  fun,''  answered  Theodora,  laughing, 
as  she  looked  up  at  the  contented  face  of  the  rosy  little 
Teuton. 

"  She  says  his  father  is  a  soldier,  and  he  misses  him." 

"  Poor  little  soul !  How  pleased  she  seemed  to  have 
you  answer  her  in  her  own  language." 

"  It  is  pleasant  to  me  to  use  it.  It  brings  back  happy 
days.'' 

"  In  Germany  ? " 

"  Yes.     I  was  there  studying  when  the  war  broke  out." 

"  Studying  what  ?  " 

"  Engineering." 

"  Had  you  chosen  that  for  your  profession  ? " 

"  Perhaps  it  would  be  truer  to  say  that  it  had  chosen 
me.  I  never  felt  that  there  was  any  question  about  it.  If 
I  was  made  for  an^^thing,  I  knew  it  was  that." 

"  But  it  seems  to  me  you  are  a  person  who  might  have 
a  great  deal  of  power  over  other  men.  Wouldn't  you 
rather  have  to  do  with  people  than  with  things  ? " 

"  The  world's  work  will  be  best  done  if  every  one 
chooses  what  he  can  best  do ;  don't  you  think  so  ?  If  I 
have  a  special  gift  of  any  kind,  it  is  for  dealing  with 
things,  not  people,"  answered  Rolfe. 

As  he  said  it,  he  was  tickling  the  plump,  bare  feet  that 


392  theodoka:  a  home  story. 

rested  in  his  hand,  till  he  made  the  youngster  nestle  about 
in  convulsions  of  laughter. 

"  He  has  the  better  of  you,  after  all,"  said  Theodora. 
"  He  has  pushed  your  cap  into  the  most  rowdyish  position 
you  can  imagine.'' 

The  Colonel  set  his  cap  straight,  at  the  same  time  fir- 
ing off  German  threats  at  the  little  fellow,  which  he  mer- 
rily laughed  to  scorn. 

"  I  want  to  know  a  bit  more  about  your  histoiy,  if  I 
may,"  said  Theodora.  "  You  said  you  were  in  Germany 
when  the  war  broke  out ;  when  did  you  come  home  ? " 

"  By  the  next  steamer  after  hearing  that  Smnter  was 
fired  upon." 

"  That  was  just  what  I  wanted  to  know,"  she  said,  look- 
ing up  at  him  bi'ightly.  That  satisfied  her  idea  of  pa- 
triotism. "  You  were  like  Milton,  who  '  thought  it  base 
to  be  traveling  for  amusement  abroad,  while  his  fellow- 
citizens  were  fighting  for  liberty  at  home.'  " 

"  To  compare  small  things  with  great." 

The  frau,  who  had  gone  on  before  them,  stood  waiting 
on  her  doorstep,  with  half  a  dozen  round-faced  children 
enviously  watching  their  brother.  It  seemed  unrighteous 
that  he  should  have  such  a  triumphant  return  from  his 
wicked  escapade. 

The  Colonel  set  him  down  among  them,  patting  his 
curly  pate ;  and  making  some  good-natured  answer  to 
the  mother's  vociferous  thanks,  walked  away  with  his 
companion. 

The  little  scene  had  cheered  her  wonderfully.  These 
small  mortals  that  laugh  in  the  face  of  trouble  make  it 
seem  unreal. 

"  I  enlisted  the  very  day  I  reached  home,"  said  Rolfe, 
picking  up  the  conversation  where  they  had  di'opped  it, 


AN    ACQUAINTANCE    MADE.       '  393 

"  and  I  have  seen  some  rougli  service  ;  but  all  the  rest  put 
together  was  nothing  to  the  imprisonment.  You  don't 
know,  Miss  Cameron,  what  a  comfort  your  brother  was  to 
us  in  those  dreary  days.  Between  his  fun  and  his  faith, 
he  kept  us  all  up.  He  had  a  faculty  for  finding  out  what 
every  man  could  do.  ISTo  one  made  such  head  against  the 
dead-alive  ennui  that  stupefied  us.  He  was  always  start- 
ing something  to  entertain  us — games,  debates,  and  the 
like.  You  know  what  a  natural  orator  he  is.  The  boys 
would  rouse  themselves  to  hear  him  talk  when  they  didn't 
care  for  anything  else.  It  was  to  him  they  all  went  for 
sympathy  or  advice.  There  wasn't  a  poor  dog  hit  upon 
a  new  device  in  his  whittling,  or  concocted  a  scheme 
for  escape,  or  fell  into  any  new  misery,  but  that  he  would 
go  to  Don  with  it.  And  then,"  he  added,  with  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation,  "  he  knew  how  to  inspire  men  with  faith 
in  God  like  nobody  else  I  ever  saw.  That  pocket-Bible 
of  his  has  been  a  strength  and  consolation  to  many  beside 
himself." 

Theodora's  heart  was  full.  This  was  her  sweet,  strong, 
bright  Donald  of  old.  She  could  not  command  her  voice, 
and  had  to  let  her  face  speak  for  her. 

Her  companion  saw  how  it  was,  and  went  on,  in  a  voice 
of  deep  feeling : 

"What  he  was  to  m^,  God  only  knows.  I  should  have 
grown  bitter  and  altogether  hateful  if  I  'd  not  had  him  to 
teach  me  the  Spirit  of  Christ.  It  was  so  much  harder  for 
him  than  for  me,  too.   He  had  such  a  home  to  miss  him." 

"  And  you  ? " 

"  I  am  a  vagabond,  with  nobody  in  particular  to  tie  to," 
he  answered,  with  a  smile. 

They  had  reached  Mrs.  Brown's   door,  and   Colonel 
Holfe  declined  to  come  in. 
17* 


31)4  TnEOD;)RA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

Theodora  stood  at  the  window,  slowly  pulling  off  her 
gloves,  and  watching  his  manly  figure  as  he  walked  away. 
She  did  not  suppose  he  had  any  idea  that  he  had  comforted 
her ;  she  did  not  suspect  that  he  had  seen  that  she  stood 
in  need  of  comfort. 

She  had  a  misgiving  of  it  the  next  morning,  however, 
when  she  went  to  the  hospital.  She  had  been  washing  her 
brother's  face  and  hands,  and  just  as  she  finished  wiping 
them,  he  kept  her  hands  in  his,  and  said,  with  liis  large, 
lustrous  eyes  raised  humbly  to  her  face  : 

"  Yince  says  I  was  cross  yesterday." 

"  He  shouldn't  have  said  any  such  thing." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  should.  I  believe  it  is  true.  I  was  so 
tonnented,  I  hardly  knew  what  I  said  ;  but  I  do  mean  to 
behave,"  he  said,  with  a  boyish  smile,  raising  her  hands  to 
his  hps,  and  kissing  them.  "  It  would  be  a  cruel  shame 
to  be  cross  to  you.''^ 

"  You  needn't  mind  me,  dear,  only  get  well !  "  Then, 
to  divert  his  thoughts,  she  went  on :  "  Your  '  Yince ' 
says  he  is  a  '  vagabond.'  " 

"  What  did  he  mean  ? " 

"  '  Nobody  to  tie  to,'  he  said.     Hasn't  he  a  home  ? " 

"  No ;  his  father  died  when  he  was  small,  and  his  mother 
when  he  was  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  old.  She  is  the 
highest  saint  in  his  calendar.  His  father  left  him  quite  a 
fortune,  and  he  seems  to  have  plenty  of  friends ;  but  that 
isn't  like  having  a  home  like  ours." 

"  No,  indeed.  Now  for  your  breakfast !  There  comes 
your  Pythias,  with  a  posy  of  English  violets  in  his  hand." 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Cameron,"  he  said,  cheerily,  as 
he  reached  them.     "  Shall  I  give  these  to  you  or  Don?  " 

"  Him,  by  all  means.  Where  did  you  find  them,  so 
early  in  the  morning  ? " 


AN    ACQUAmTANCE   MADE.  395 

"  Little  girl,  down  here  at  the  corner.  By  the  waj, 
Miss  Cameron,  I  am  not  going  to  draw  upon  your  com- 
missariat any  longer.  I  am  growing  so  stout  I  have  no 
excuse  for  being  babied  any  more." 

"  But  I  like  to  serve  you.  I  always  thought  '  seeing 
the  animals  fed '  was  an  attractive  part  of  the  manag- 
erie." 

"  I  shall  not  amuse  you  that  way  any  more,  for  I  am 
quite  able  to  forage  for  myself  now." 

As  he  spoke,  he  smiled  and  stroked  his  face,  wliich  was 
really  filling  out  its  natural  outline,  and  losing  its  sallow 
hue. 

"  Let  me  give  you  one  more  meal  together,  anyway." 

So  they  began  the  day  with  a  pleasant  chat  over  the 
breakfast,  sweetened  by  the  perfume  of  the  violets. 

Vincent  Rolfe  had  that  simple  gentlemanliness  which 
is  equally  agreeable  to  men  and  women.  He  was  a 
natural  soldier.  The  battle-fire,  which  cost  Cameron  the 
exhausting  conflict  of  a  nature  up  in  arms  against  itself, 
was  to  him  only  an  exaltation  of  quickened  faculties. 
His  courage  liked  danger  as  a  swimmer  likes  the  wave. 

"  The  ^ew  England  character  "  sometimes  gets  a  fine 
development  in  the  ISTorth-west.  You  find  the  old  traits 
with  a  fresh  grip  upon  first  principles,  and  a  new  flexibility 
in  applying  them.  Let  pansies  grow  in  the  same  bed 
from  year  to  year,  and  they  run  down  to  mere  ladies'- 
delights.  Transplant  them  often  enough,  and  they  keep 
their  original  size  and  richness.  The  Puritan  character 
never  showed  its  full  vigor  and  beauty  till  it  blossomed 
in  the  wilderness.  If  it  declines  from  its  type  in  the  old 
garden,  reset  it  in  the  virgin-soil  of  the  prairie.  Rolfe 
was  a  Western  Puritan.  The  proud  integrity  wliich  was  his 
by  inheritance,  might  have  made  him  a  hard  man  if  the 


396  THEODORA  :    A   HOMK    STOIC Y. 

fiery  trials  of  liis  captivity  bad  uot  melted  his  heart  into 
union  with  that  mighty  Sulferer  who  blends  the  sternest 
truth  with  the  lowliest  love. 

With  E.olfe,  mind,  nerve,  and  muscle  seemed  perfectly 
en  rapport  with  each  other  ;  as  a  consequence,  the  quiet, 
unconscious  dignity  of  the  character  gave  an  easy  manli- 
ness to  all  his  movements.  Whatever  he  did,  there  was 
no  uncertainty,  no  flun-y,  and  no  fiomish  about  it.  lie 
was  not  a  great  talker ;  but  what  he  said,  along  -with  his 
looks  and  bearing,  drew  to  him  at  once  a  certain  respect 
and  confidence. 

Theodora  was  learning  to  like  his  manners  more  and 
more.  At  first,  it  must  be  confessed,  they  piqued  her. 
Lieutenant  Bell,  while  he  had  enough  sense  of  the 
ludicrous  to  save  him  from  being  "  soft,"  was  full  of 
those  little  attentions  that  ladies  love.  His  whole  man- 
ner towards  her  was  a  flattery,  pointed  by  indifference  to 
those  about  her.  Col.  Eolfe  was  always  kind,  never  flat- 
tering. 

She  felt  the  difference  most  when  Bell  had  lately 
left  her.  She  was  glad  he  was  gone,  and  yet  she  missed 
him  and  his  homage.  She  liked  Col.  Rolfe,  because 
Donald  loved  him  ;  but,  for  herself,  she  felt  a  Httle  afraid 
of  him,  he  seemed  so  unsparingly  just. 

Thinking  it  over  after  she  went  to  her  own  room,  one 
night,  she  came  to  this  conclusion  :  "  Theodora  Cameron, 
you  are  a  goose  !  It  is  sheer  vanity  that  likes  to  be 
treated  Bell's  way  better  than  Col.  RoKe's.  Do  you  want 
to  be  put  up  in  a  shrine  and  have  incense  buraed  to  3'ou, 
and  your  very  faults  petted  and  complimented  ?  I 
wouldn't  be  such  a  fool,  if  I  were  you  ! " 

Still,  she  thought  of  RoKe  as  Donald's  friend  —  not 
hers — until  that  walk  and  talk,  when  he  cheered  her  with 


AN   ACQUAINTANCE   MADE.  397 

a  sjTnpatliy  all  the  more  delicate  and  welcome  because  it 
did  not  call  itself  sympathy.  After  that,  they  found 
themselves  on  a  new  footing  of  couhdence  and  friendli- 
ness. Rolfe  often  thought — "  What  a  pity  such  a  noljle- 
hearted  girl  should  throw  herself  away  upon  that  aide- 
de-camp  ! "  For  he  and  Bell  felt  an  antipatliy  for  each 
other  at  first  sight. 

As  Summer  cooled  into  Autumn,  Donald  began  to 
improve  much  faster,  and  his  sister  grew  very  happy. 
His  face,  though  still  extremely  pale  and  thin,  had  lost 
that  dreadful  look  which  starvation  had  left  upon  it.  The 
old  light  was  kindling  in  his  eyes  ;  sometimes  the  bright 
smile  of  other  days  thrilled  her  with  a  sudden  joy.  His 
white  teeth  stood  a  line  apart,  and  that  gave  a  frank,  ])oy- 
ish  look  to  his  mouth  when  it  flashed  out  a  smile. 

It  was  a  joyful  day  for  the  three  when,  supported  by 
his  friend  on  one  side  and  his  sister  on  the  other,  the 
Lieutenant  achieved  the  exploit  of  walking  down  into  the 
yard.  After  that,  they  used  to  spend  hours,  eveiy  pleas- 
ant day,  sitting  in  their  favorite  corner  of  the  balcony, 
talking  and  enjoying  the  delicious  weather.  Often  Eolfe 
read  aloud,  while  Theodora  was  busy  with  some  sewing 
for  the  patients. 

In  the  long  months  of  their  captivity,  the  two  young 
men  had  exchanged  ideas  upon  all  manner  of  subjects ; 
but  the  addition  of  the  young  woman,  with  her  enthusi- 
asms, opinions,  and  fancies,  seemed  to  give  a  new  zest  to 
their  discussions.  Besides,  the  two,  while  perfectly  ap- 
preciative of  each  other,  were  so  different  in  mental  cast 
that  there  was  boundless  scope  for  conversation  between 
them. 

Rolfe  had  an  unmitigated  contempt  for  all  "  bosh,"  a 
suspicion  of  romance,  and  a  reverence  for  science. 


398  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

Cameron  cherislied  a  poetic  faith  in  the  heroic  past  and 
the  golden  future. 

In  loyalty  to  truth  and  to  God,  the  two  were  not  un- 
like. 

"  What  a  convenience  it  would  be  if  a  man  could  know 
just  what  is  to  happen  to  him  ! "  exclaimed  Rolfe,  fling- 
ing down,  as  twilight  came  on,  a  crumpled  coj)y  of  a 
sensation  novel,  which  he  had  been  glancing  over. 
"  Here  is  this  fellow,  who  was  lately  mooning  around 
under  his  lady's  window,  like  an  idiot ;  the  moment  he  is 
cast  away  in  a  life-boat,  bringing  out  statistics  about  ship- 
wrecks, like  a  lawyer  who  has  just  got  up  his  case,  he  no 
sooner  sets  his  feet  on  a  desert  island,  than  he  shows  him- 
self as  well-up  in  the  fauna  and  flora  of  that  particular 
spot  of  the  earth  as  if  he  had  been  cramming  for  an  ex- 
amination." 

"  No  doubt  would  have  been  equally  well  posted 
whether  he  had  landed  on  Greenland's  icy  mountains,  or 
India's  coral  strand,"  observed  Cameron. 

"  Of  course.  It's  not  safe  to  leave  anything  unknown 
because  you  never  can  foresee  just  what  you  may  need." 

"  Now  if  you  had  only  been  a  Cyclopaedia  incarnate, 
what  a  treasure  you  might  have  been  to  me,  down  theie 
in  prison  !  I  might  have  been  '  improving  my  mind  and 
preparing  myseK  for  high  and  extensive  usefulness,' " 
said  Donald,  with  a  lazy  smile,  at  the  same  time  teasing 
his  sister  with  a  wisp  of  peacock  feathers  he  had  for  keep- 
ing off  the  flies. 

"  Stop  that,  you  naughty  boy  !"  she  said,  moving  a  little 
farther  off.  "  You  will  make  me  stab  Jack,  with  this 
great  needle." 

Jack,  the  drummer-boy,  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of 
coming  to  Miss  Cameron  with  n.iost  of  his  wants,  and  just 


AN   ACQUAINTANCE   MADE.  399 

now  was  standing  before  her,  to  have  the  buttons  sewed 
on  his  dark  flannel  shirt-sleeves. 

"  I  must  say  for  you,  Don,  you  were  as  good  as  a  vol 
ume  of  poems.     I  never  shall  hear — 

"  '  Stone-walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 
Nor  iron  bars  a  cage — '  " 

"  They  do,  though  !" 

"  —  without  hearing  the  sound  of  your  steps  pacing 
up  and  down  under  those  grated  windows.  It  is  a  con 
venience  to  carry  your  favorite  authors  in  your  head, — 
saves  room  in  your  knapsack.  I'd  like  that  faculty  of 
yours." 

Theodora  glanced  up  with  a  responsive  smile ;  she  de- 
lighted in  her  brother's  recitations  of  poetry. 

"  I  have  no  more  faculty  than  you,"  he  answered. 
"  You  remember  what  you  like ;  some  abominable  sen- 
tence from  what  you  call  an  ultimate  authority,  to  knock 
me  down  with,  when  you  can't  refute  my  arguments 
yourself," 

"  That  is  useful.  I  do  remember  facts,  and  scraps  that 
please  me,  but  never  a  whole  speech  or  poem,  like  you 
do." 

"  My  memory  is  a  stratified  formation,"  remarked 
Donald  ;  "  cut  down  through,  and  the  deposits  will  show 
you  the  stages  of  my  mental  history." 

Here  Jack  broke  in,  "  Good  for  you  !"  as  Theodora 
fastened  her  thread,  after  not  only  sewing  on  his  buttons, 
but  mending  a  rip  in  his  sleeve. 

All  three  pairs  of  eyes  had  been  watching  her  intently, 
as  men  will  watch  a  pair  of  adroit  womanly  hands,  sew- 
ing, and  the  two  young  men  burst  out  laughing  as  Jack 
buttoned  his  sleeves  complacently,  with  the  remark  : 


400  TIIEODOEA  :    A   HOME    STOKT. 

"  I'd  no  idea  young  ladies  were  so  nice !" 

The  smile  slowly  subsided  on  Rolfe's  lips,  and  seemed 
to  settle  in  his  eyes,  as  they  followed  Theodora  putting 
away  her  thimble  in  a  daint}^  little  housewife,  patting  the 
head  of  Jack's  dog  as  he  rose,  and  stretched  himself,  then 
taking  the  feather-wand  from  the  tired  hand  of  the  in- 
valid. He  turned  his  face  toward  a  strip  of  sunset  visi- 
ble between  brick  walls,  and  the  smile  in  his  eyes  grew 
dreamy  and  soft,  as  he  said : 

"  Speaking  of  remembered  scraps,  do  you  know  this 
from  Ruskin  :  '  Wherever  a  true  wife  comes,  this  home  is 
always  I'ound  her.  The  stars  only  may  be  over  her  head  ; 
the  glow-worm  in  the  nigiit-cold  grass  may  be  the  only 
fire  at  her  foot ;  but  home  is  yet  wherever  she  is ;  and 
for  a  noble  woman  it  stretches  far  around  her,  better  than 
ceiled  with  cedar,  or  painted  with  vermilion  ;  shedding 
its  quiet  light  afar  for  those  who  else  were  homeless'  ?  " 

He  repeated  it  in  a  subdued,  mellow  tone,  which  Theo- 
dora had  never  heard  in  his  voice  before.  The  beautiful 
passage  was  new  to  her,  so  that  when  he  finished,  her 
eyes  were  fixed  on  his  face,  full  of  a  lovely  enthusiasm. 
As  he  turned  his  own,  with  the  last  words,  from  the  sun- 
set, they  too  were  large  and  soft  with  some  sweet  feeling. 
Perhaps  it  was  caught  from  the  radiance  of  the  evening 
clouds,  or  from  the  poetic  cadences  he  had  been  reciting : 
— Whatever  it  was,  Theodora  felt  that  they  opened  into 
some  shrine  of  the  man's  soul  of  which  she  had  never  be- 
fore had  a  glimpse.  For  the  moment  that  those  eyes 
looked  into  each  other,  there  breathed  through  both 
hearts  some  fleeting  dream  of  possible  blessedness, 
vague  and  transient  as  the  passing  perfume  of  unseen 
flowers. 

"  Did  I  hear  aright  ?"  asked  Donald,  a  mischievous 


AN   ACQUAENTANCE   MADE.  401 

smile  flickeriug  over  his  face.  "  Was  that  joii,  Col. 
Eolf  e  ?" 

"  It  was,  Lieutenant,"  his  face  instantly  coming  back 
to  its  ordinary  expression. 

"  All  right.  I  was  afraid  it  might  be  I,  and  1  knew 
you  would  call  me  sentimental." 

"  It  is  high  time  for  you  to  retii-e,"  retorted  his  friend. 
"  This  evening  air  is  bad  for  your  health." 

The  more  Col.  RoKe  became  acquainted  with  Theo- 
dora Cameron,  the  more  he  thought  it  a  pity  for  her  to 
be  engaged  to  "  that  aide,"  as  he  took  it  for  granted  she 
was.  Not  that  it  was  any  concern  of  his,  but  as  he  put 
it,  he  did  not  like  to  see  pearls  cast  before  swine. 

Pelham  Bell  was  far  from  being  "  a  swine,"  and  it  was 
strange  that  Vincent  Rolfe,  who  was  thought  remarkable 
for  fairness,  should  judge  him  so  harshly.  He  was  apt 
to  think  it  over  after  she  was  gone  at  evening. 

"  He'll  not  make  her  happy,"  he  would  say  to  himself. 
"  He  cares  enough  for  her  now  ;  it  was  easy  to  see  that ; 
but  he  is  not  a  man  to  be  relied  upon.  She  is  true 
as  steel,  and  she  will  love  with  all  her  heart.  She 
oufi^ht  to  have  a  man  she  can  trust  throuo-h  and  throuo^h." 

One  morning  the  three  were  sitting  in  their  favorite 
corner  of  the  balcony,  and  while  the  girl  helped  the  two 
soldiers  from  a  dainty  basket  of  grapes,  they  were  talking 
about  the  lady  who  had  just  brought  them. 

"  She  is  perfectly  charming  to  me,"  Theodora  was 
saying,  as  she  broke  off  a  luscious  little  cluster  and  passed 
it  over  to  the  Colonel.  "  Sometimes  when  I  like  a  per- 
son so  very  much  at  first,  I  feel  as  if  I  would  rather  not 
go  any  farther  in  the  acquaintance.  There  are  such  un- 
bounded possibilities  so  long  as  you  don't  know.  When 
I  first  went  to  Virginia,  my  window  looked  out  into  a 


402  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

grove,  and  there  were  such  charming  glimpses  into  the 
greenery,  I  longed  to  go  and  get  lost  in  it.  If  I  never 
had  gone,  I  might  have  imagined  it  stretching  away,  a 
wilderness  of  delights.  But  I  had  not  walked  in  it  ten 
minutes  when  I  came  out  on  a  tame  orchard." 

"  Do  you  rememl)er  that  birth-day  of  Robert's,  when 
we  went  up  to  the  head  of  the  spring  ?"  asked  Donald. 

"  I  never  shall  forget  it,"  answered  Theodora,  shaking 
her  head,  solemnly,  while  she  smoothed  out  a  grape-leaf. 
"  That  was  the  first  great  disenchantment  of  my  life." 

"  You  speak  as  if  you  had  looked  through  iife,  and 
found  it  a  fraud,"  said  Col.  Rolfe,  slowly  stroking  his 
mustache,  and  looking  at  her  fresh,  happy  face  with  his 
grey  eyes  full  of  amusement. 

"  No  ;  I  believe  in  life  and  in  people,  only  if  any  one 
is  jyarticularly  prepossessing,  I  am  afraid  it  will  tm^l  out 
like  the  Virginia  grove  or  our  old  brook." 

"  I  never  knew  before  the  compensation  for  being  not 
prepossessing ;  if  I  were  that,  I  should  retire  from  this 
presence  immediately,"  said  Rolfe.  He  watched  her 
fingers  as  she  broke  off  a  few  of  the  largest  grapes  for 
Donald,  and  re-arranged  the  clusters  that  were  left.  Sud- 
denly he  said,  "  Speaking  of  Virginia,  where  is  your 
friend,  Lieutenant  Bell,  now,  if  I  may  ask  ?" 

"  I  suppose  he  must  be  at  Chattanooga.  I've  not  heard 
from  him  since  he  was  here.  There,  gentlemen,  you  ai-e 
not  to  have  another  grape  till  after  dinner." 

Her  answer  was  easy  and  natural,  as  if  he  had  asked 
the  time  of  day.  He  silently  remarked  to  himself,  "  You 
are  a  fool ;  she  knows  how  to  take  care  of  herself." 

Miss  Fletcher,  the  young  lady  of  whom  they  had  been 
talking,  came  out  from  the  hospital,  and  begged  to  speak 
Mith  Col.  Rolfe,  a  moment. 


AN    ACQUAINTANCE   MADE.  403 

Theodora  looked  at  lier  with  admiring  eyes  as  she 
walked  slowly  down  the  path  beside  him.  Every  move- 
ment was  grace.  Her  dress  was  elegant  as  herseK.  There 
was  something  exquisitely  winning  in  her  manner ;  her 
lovely  face  expressed  such  deference,  while  she  had  the 
self-poised  repose  of  an  accomplished  woman  accustomed 

to  the  world — 

"  '  So  absolute  she  seems 
And  in  herself  complete  ;  so  well  to  know 
Her  own,'" — 

murmm-ed  the  girl,  with,  a  dreary  sense  of  her  own  crude- 
ness,  "  Col.  Kolfe  seems  quite  fascinated  by  Miss  Fletch- 
er, don't  you  think  so  ? ''  she  said  to  her  brothei-.  The 
lady  was  seated  in  her  carriage  now,  and  the  Colonel's 
face  was  certainly  full  of  pleasure  as  he  stood  listening 
to  her  words. 

"  Nothing  serious,  I  presume.  His  heart  is  cased  in 
ribs  of  steel.  He  compares  every  young  lady  with  that 
angelic  mother  of  his.  I  have  often  told  him  he  never 
would  find  a  wife  to  suit  him  unless  one  was  specially 
provided,  made  of  celestial  clay." 

At  that  moment  Miss  Fletcher's  coachman  drew  his 
reins,  and  with  a  graceful  bow  to  the  two  on  the  balcony, 
as  well  as  the  Colonel,  she  drove  off,  followed  by  the  grate- 
ful eyes  of  a  score  of  soldiers  scattered  under  the  trees. 

"  She  has  the  faculty  of  giving  a  favor  as  if  she  was 
asking  it,"  said  Rolfe,  as  he  came  back  to  the  brother 
and  sister.  "  She  wished  to  know  if  you  were  able  to 
ride,  Don,  and  proposes  to  send  around  her  carriage  for 
US  three  this  afternoon." 

Nearly  every  day  after  that.  Miss  Fletcher's  carriage  was 
placed  at  the  service  of  the  "  Cameron  party,"  as  she  called 
them,  and  not  infrequently  she  joined  them  in  the  drive. 


XXXI. 

BETWEEN    LIFE    AND    DEATH. 

BY  tlie  last  of  October,  it  was  thought  safe  for  Lieu- 
tenant Cameron  to  start  for  home.  His  friend  Rolf e 
was  to  leave  a  few  days  later  and  resume  command  of  his 
regiment,  now  transferred  to  the  Army  of  the  Cumber- 
land. 

Theodora's  last  day  in  the  hospital  was  a  sober  and  a 
busy  one.  Her  heart  had  ached  and  her  hands  had 
worked  for  hundreds  of  brave  sufferers  beside  her 
brother.  She  was  turning  away  from  siglits  of  agony 
which  had  harrowed  her  heart,  yet  it  was  hard  to  go.  It 
had  been  something  to  endure  her  part  of  the  nation's 
anguish  and  toil.  Her  intense  loyalty,  her  homage  for 
brave  self-sacrifice  had  counted  it  a  sacred  privilege  to  do 
the  lowliest  service  for  the  crippled  heroes  of  Corinth  or 
Vicksburg. 

A  crowd  of  battered  veterans  gathered  in  the  yard  to 
say  "  Grod  bless  ye !"  to  the  brother  and  sister. 

Theodora  leaned  from  the  carriage  window  to  bow  a 
response  to  their  parting  cheer,  then  retired  behind  her 
handkerchief  with  a  sob. 

"  It  is  well  we  left  as  soon  as  we  did,"  remarked  Don- 
ald to  Rolfe.  "  My  sister  was  getting  such  a  stack  of 
bone  rings,  whittled  puzzles,  buttons,  and  keepsake  bul- 
lets, we  should  have  needed  another  trunk  by  next  week." 

"  I  don't  care  !"  she  said,  wiping  her  eyes  and  trying 
(404) 


BETWEEN   LIFE    AXD    DEATH.  405 

to  laugh  down  her  tears.     "  Every  one  of  them  is  just  as 
vahiable  as  a  relic  of  the  Crusades." 

Col.  Rolfe  had  often  teasecl  her  for  her  hero-worship. 

"  Kemember  they  are  not  demi-gods,"  he  said.  "  These 
poor  fellows  really  consist  of  the  same  stuff  as  they  did 
when  they  were  digging  ditches  or  laying  bricks." 

"  That  is  the  beauty  of  it,"  she  answered.  "  When  we 
thought  we  were  living  in  such  a  hum-diomi,  matter-of- 
fact  age,  to  find  all  at  once  that  there  is  just  as  much 
heroism  and  grand  seK-devotion  in  the  world  as  ever  there 
was.  Why,  there  are  dapper  little  clerks  that  I  have 
traded  with  a  hundred  times,  and  never  dreamed  they 
had  a  thought  beyond  their  yard-sticks  and.  neck-ties,  who 
have  turned  out  to  be  knights  without  reproach  or  fear. 
I  feel  honored  that  they  should  ever  have  deigned,  to  sell 
me  needles  and  pins !  " 

"  In  a  few  years,  your  knights  will  be  clerks  and  farm- 
ers and  engine-drivers  and  mechanics  again,  and  all  this 
glamour  will  be  gone,  even  from  your  eyes." 

"Never!  —  because  it  is  not  glamour.  It- is  just  the 
truth  ;  and  I  hope  I  never  shall  forget  that  these  every-day 
men  are  really  patriots  and  heroes  as  noble  as  any  of  old." 

"  That  is  to  say,  it  takes  nothing  out  of  the  common 
run  of  humanity  to  make  a  good  citizen  and  a  good  sol- 
dier. Don't  you  think  you  women,  not  being  fighters 
yourselves,  magnify  war-courage  out  of  proportion  to  the 
homely,  staple  virtues  of  peace  ? " 

"  Perhaps  ;  I  wiU  pay  more  respect  to  the  staple  peace 
vu'tues,  if  you  please ;  but  I  won't  yield  one  particle  of 
my  admiration  for  these  brave  boys.'' 

Rolfe  smiled  indulgently,  and  thought  what  a  thorough- 
bred woman  she  was.  It  is  not  unpleasant  to  be  one  of 
the  "  demi-gods  "  with  such  a  devout  votary. 


406  TITEODOTIA  :    A    HOME    STOEY. 

It  "was  a  hard  parting  for  the  two  comrades.  The  year 
thej  had  shared  had  knit  them  more  closely  together  than 
a  life-time  of  ordinary  intercourse  could  have  done. 

"  Perhaps  I  will  be  with  you  yet,  before  the  war  is 
over,"  said  Donald,  with  wan  lips  that  mocked  the  words. 

"  Do  it,  and  we  will  see  that  you  have  a  brigadiership. 
Good-bye,  Miss  Theodora.  Good-bye,  my  boy.  Take 
care  of  yourself." 

One  hard  hand-clasp,  and  the  friends  were  parted  for — 
who  could  guess  how  long !  The  Colonel's  face  was  pale, 
and  his  hand,  for  once,  unsteady.  He  pulled  his  cap 
down  over  his  brows,  and  slung  himself  from  the  car- 
steps,  as  the  train  began  to  move,  with  a  heavier  heart 
than  he  had  carried  since  leaving  Richmond.  Donald's 
eyes  filled  as  he  saw  him  standing  in  the  crowd.  Sud- 
denly, he  caught  sight  of  them  through  the  window,  and 
a  beautiful  smile  broke  out  of  the  gloom.  He  raised  his 
cap  and  waved  it  to  them,  and  that  was  their  last  glimpse 
of  him. 

The  trying  journey  was  safely  accomplished.  What  it 
was  for  that  father  and  mother  to  have  their  long-lost  boy 
where  they  could  see  him  every  morning  and  bless  him 
every  evening,  may  perhaps  be  guessed;  it  cannot  be 
described.  Jessie  followed  him  about,  or  sat  at  his  feet, 
looking  up  at  him  like  a  faithful  hound,  ready  to  spiing, 
at  a  look,  to  do  his  bidding.  It  was  something  beautiful 
to  see  the  happiness  beam  out  of  his  transparent  face,  to 
see  him  fondle  the  oldest  things  in  the  house,  to  hear  his 
comical  and  loving  praises  of  the  homeliest  comforts  that 
belonged  to  the  home.  His  books  were  like  so  many  old 
friends,  the  dearer  for  the  long  separation. 

Alice  Fenton  used  to  come  for  an  hour,  every  morning, 
to  read  to  him,  beginning  Wallenstein  just  where  they 


BETWEEN    LIFE    AjSTD    DEATH.  407 

left  off.  Almost  eveiy  day,  Merlie  Myers  would  run  in 
to  amuse  him  with  her  sprightly  version  of  the  village 
gossip.  He  was  eager  to  see  everybody,  as  every  one 
was  to  see  him.  It  seemed  as  if  the  people  could  not  pet 
hiui  enough  to  satisfy  themselves.  The  kind  housewives 
were  evidently  resolved  that  whatever  lack  of  eatables  he 
had  suffered  in  his  imprisonment  should  be  made  up  to 
him  now. 

Miriam  and  Faith  were  at  home  at  Thanksgiving,  and 
never  were  thanks  more  heartily  given.  Robert  was 
represented  at  the  dinner-table  by  a  letter  announcing  his 
promotion  to  the  position  of  Brigadier-General. 

Snow  came  early  that  year,  and,  all  through  December 
and  January,  the  fine  weather  lasted ;  the  ideal  New 
England  Winter" — ^glittering,  bracing,  shining,  white — • 
just  cold  enough  to  keep  the  snow  solid  and  the  ice  thick. 
Hannibal  was  beginning  to  feel  the  weight  of  years,  but 
he  seemed  to  know  that  his  young  master  had  come  back, 
and  went  cheerily  over  the  glistening  roads  to  take  him 
on  all  the  drives  he  used  to  like  when  he  was  a  boy. 

With  all  their  happiness,  the  father  and  mother  were 
troubled  that  Donald  did  not  gain  faster.  He  seemed  to 
live  up  to  his  income  of  strength — laying  by  very  little. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  native  resilience  of  his  constitution 
was  broken.  In  February  came  a  great  thaw.  The 
earth  was  covered  with  deep  slush,  the  air  was  full  of 
vapor.  He  took  cold,  and  no  remedy  made  any  impres- 
sion upon  it.    He  languished  for  lack  of  out-door  exercise. 

The  river  broke  up  early  in  March,  and  strewed  blocks 
of  ice  all  over  the  meadows.  Everything  was  damp  and 
chill. 

Mrs.  Cameron,  who  had  seen  brothers  and  sisters  go 
down  with  consumption,  became  intensely  anxious.     The 


408  THEODORA:    A    HOME    STORY. 

father  and  sisters  were  confident  that  just  as  soon  as  the 
pleasant  Spring  weather  came  on  he  would  be  better.  She 
felt  that  her  son  was  doomed. 

"What  makes  jou  look  so  distressed,  mother?"  the 
girls  would  ask,  almost  impatient  at  her  fears.  "  He  will 
begin  to  gain  again,  as  soon  as  he  gets  over  this  cold.'' 

Then  she  would  tiy  to  put  on  a  cheerful  face,  and  to 
confide  her  forebodings  to  the  "  God  of  consolation"  only. 
Too  well  her  sore  heart  knew  every  footstep  of  the 
stealthy  destroyer. 

As  the  dehcious  Summer  came  on,  the  stubborn  cough 
gave  way  somewhat ;  but  the  lassitude  and  depression  of 
the  hospital  days  came  back. 

Any  woman  who  has  tried  it,  Imows  what  a  hopeless 
task  it  is  to  find  entertainment  for  a  man  who  is  too  well 
to  be  in  bed,  too  ill  to  be  at  work.  The  sister-nurse  did 
her  utmost  to  amuse  her  patient.  She  ransacked  her 
memory  for  every  good  story  she  knew.  IS^exer  had  she 
coveted  rare  conversational  gifts  as  she  did  in  the  morn- 
ing drives  or  the  quiet  afteiTioons  with  him.  If  she  ral- 
lied her  spirits  for  a  joke,  it  fell  flat.  If  she  asked  liis 
opinion  on  some  subject,  for  the  sake  of  rousing  his  in- 
terest, the  question  sounded  forced  in  her  own  eai^s,  and 
he  was  apt  to  give  some  brief  answer,  that  made  it  seem 
foolish.  The  poor  child  wondered,  in  a  dim,  pitiful  way, 
how  people  ever  could  have  called  her  bright.  Help 
from  without  failed  her.  Merlie  tried  him,  "with  her 
chatter."  He  was  too  restless  to  follow  Alice's  reading. 
He  did  not  like  either  of  them  about  when  he  felt  dull 
and  nervous.  He  grew  sensitive  about  seeing  anybody ; 
people  were  apt  to  look  at  him  as  if  he  was  woi'se,  even 
if  they  had  too  much  sense  to  say  it.  "  The  doctor  did 
not  know  anything,"  he  said.     When  lie  had  been  in 


BETWEEN    LIFE    AND   DEATH.  409 

good  spirits  himself,  he  had  been  jovial  and  amusing ; 
now  that  he  needed  to  be  diverted,  he  always  appeared 
sober.  Ilis  mother's  sad  eyes  worried  him,  though  she 
did  her  best  to  be  courageous,  and  smiled,  while  her  heart 
was  near  breaking.  For  a  while,  he  rested  on  his  father's 
strength ;  but,  as  the  Summer  months  went  on,  and  the 
di'eaded  symptoms,  one  after  another,  forced  themselves 
upon  that  father's  notice,  he  went  down  into  the  Yalley 
of  the  Shadow  of  Death.  Once  and  again  he  had  given 
up  his  son,  and  received  him  back  as  from  the  very  grave. 
'Now  that,  for  a  third  time,  he  bowed  his  soul  to  the 
struggle,  he  had  an  awful  conviction  that  there  could  be 
no  reprieve. 

The  sister's  young  courage  still  held  out.  She  would 
not  allow,  even  to  herself,  the  terrible  possibility.  Her 
greatest  earthly  help  in  those  days  were  Col.  Rolfe's 
letters.  Donald  never  tired  of  those.  He  liked  to  hear 
them  over  and  over.  They  were  full  of  interesting  mat- 
ter, and  besides,  their  tone  of  manly  hope  stayed  up  his 
spirit.  Writing  had  become  too  great  a  weariness  to  him, 
so  that  Theodora  now  wrote  all  his  letters.  After  saying 
all  he  wished,  and  making  out  the  most  hopeful  and 
sprightly  epistle  she  could  to  read  to  him,  she  always 
added  a  postscript,  to  let  his  friend  know  exactly  how  he 
was.  In  return,  Rolfe  wrote  every  week  a  long  letter 
for  Donald,  made  up  of  army  news,  stories  of  camp-life, 
reminiscences  of  their  old  experiences,  cheering  words,  and ' 
brotherly  love.  Then  he  put  a  slip  for  the  sister,  full  of 
tender  concern  for  Donald,  and  the  kindest  sympathy  for 
her.  Often  these  notes  were  like  cold  water  to  a  thirsty 
soul,  reviving  her  fortitude  and  hope  when  they  were 
ready  to  faint.  Whatever  of  sentiment  there  was  in 
Yincent  Rolfe,  was  more  apt  to  escape  in  writing  than  in 
18 


410  THEODOEA  '.    A   HOME    STOET. 

talking.  It  was  through  those  letters  she  learned  that 
his  heart  was  just  as  tender  as  it  was  true. 

It  was  an  indescribable  relief,  when  Summer  vacation 
l)rought  the  other  sisters  home.  Their  unjaded  courage 
sustained  the  rest,  while  thej  stayed. 

The  veiy  day  they  left,  Donald  took  one  of  those  colds 
that  come  from,  nobody  knows  where,  and  grew  decidedly 
worse.  His  loving  nurse  was  more  dismayed  than  she 
would  confess,  even  to  her  mother.  She  had  pleaded 
with  passionate  earnestness  for  his  life.  She  had  armed 
her  heart  with  all  the  promises.  She  had  pored  over 
the  stories  of  Christ  healing  the  sick,  and  had  tried  to  go 
to  Him  just  as  sufferers  did  in  those  days,  beseeching  Him 
to  lay  His  blessed  touch  upon  her  dear  one  also.  She 
never  doubted  that  He  could  if  He  would.  She  believed 
that  He  would.  If  her  prayers  were  not  offered  in  faith 
and  submission,  she  was  sure  those  of  her  father  and  mother 
were.  Still,  as  the  days  went  by,  the  precious  life  was 
surely  ebbing.  Did  God  mind  nothing  about  their  peti- 
tions ?  Were  His  invitations  to  pray  nothing  but  a 
mockery  ? 

One  day,  she  had  been  begging,  with  strong  crying  and 
tears,  for  the  life  of  her  dear  one.  She  had  cited  promise 
after  promise,  till  it  seemed  to  her  God  was  bound  to 
grant  her  request.  Then  she  turned  to  her  Bible  ;  in  the 
regular  course  of  her  morning  reading,  she  came  upon 
that  touching  passage  where  Moses  frankly  tells  the  mul- 
titudes of  Israel  how  he  besought  the  Lord,  that  he  might 
"  go  over  and  see  the  good  land  that  is  beyond  Jordan, 
that  goodly  mountain  and  Lebanon  ; "  and  how  the  Lord 
refused  him  outright,  sapng :  "  Let  it  suffice  thee ;  speak 
no  more  unto  Me  of  this  matter.  Get  thee  up  into  the 
top  of  Pisgah,  and  lift  up  tliine  eyes,  westward  and  north- 


BETWEEN    LIFE    AND   DEATH.  411 

ward  and  southward  and  eastward,  and  behold  it  with 
thine  eyes  ;  for  thou  shalt  not  go  over  this  Jordan.  But 
charge  Joshua,  and  encourage  him,  and  strengthen  him ; 
for  he  shall  go  over  before  this  people,  and  he  shall  cause 
them  to  inherit  the  land  which  thou  shalt  see." 

He  was  to  accept  the  stern  will  of  the  Eternal  with  no 
more  ado.  In  the  same  moment  that  He  denied  him  the 
dearest  wish  of  his  heart,  God  charged  him  with  a  duty 
the  most  seK-forgetting  that  a  man  could  be  called  to 
perform  ;  to  prepare  his  successor  for  the  honor  and  the 
joy  which  he  must  resign.  How  much  higher  things  He 
expects  of  His  children  than  they  dare  to  expect  of  them- 
selves ! 

Then  she  remembered  how  Paul  besought  the  Lord 
thrice,  that  the  messenger  of  Satan,  which  had  come  to 
buffet  him,  might  depart,  and  was  only  answered :  "  My 
grace  is  sufficient  for  thee  ;  for  My  strength  is  made 
perfect  in  weakness." 

If  the  most  urgent  pleas  of  Moses  and  of  Paul  w^ere 
not  granted,  why  should  she  expect  that  hers  would 
be? 

From  faith  that  God  would  give  the  precise  thing  that 
she  asked,  she  rose  to  the  far  higher  faith  of  believing 
that  He  would  do,  for  the  soul  resting  upon  Him,  what- 
ever was  wisest  and  kindest.  How  did  she  know  whether 
life  or  death  would  be  the  best  blessing  for  her  beloved  ? 
Oh,  but  for  her,  for  herseK,  she  could  not  doubt  his  life 
would  be  blessing  ;  his  death  would  be  bane  !  Not  even 
that,  poor,  agonized  heart,  dost'  thou  know !  He  who 
hath  loved  thee  with  an  everlasting  love.  He  knoweth  the 
bitter  cure  for  thy  soul.  It  may  be  needful  that  thy 
darling  should  fill  np  that  which  is  behind  of  the  suffer- 
ings of  Christ  to  redeem  thee  from  sin.     At  length,  she 


412  THEODOKA  !    A   HOME    STOET. 

behaved  and  quieted  herself  like  a  weaned  child,  which 
lies  patiently  sobbing  on  the  dear  breast  which  denies  it. 

She  felt  no  reassurance  of  her  brothei-'s  life.  Instead 
of  that,  she  laid  bare  her  heart  to  the  fact  that  he  was 
dying  before  her  eyes.  One  only  thing  she  was  assured 
of  :  God  is  Love.  Whatever  Love  should  lay  upon  them, 
Love  would  strengthen  them  to  bear. 

Day  after  day  she  had  urged  the  pledge  :  "  Ye  shall 
ask  what  ye  will,  and  it  shall  be  done  unto  you."  And 
she  laid  it  very  humbly  at  His  feet,  saying :  "  I  know 
nothing  :  do  with  me  what  seemeth  Thee  good."  So  she 
began  to  "  abide  in  Christ."  The  peace  of  God  began 
to  flow  in  upon  her.  She  no  longer  urged  her  wishes 
upon  Ilim  with  an  importunity  tliat  would  not  take  N^o 
for  an  answer ;  yet  prayer  was  more  precious  than  ever. 
She  poured  all  her  longings,  and  her  fears,  her  sorrow, 
and  her  love,  into  His  heart  of  infinite  sympathy,  content 
that  He — who  can  see  the  end  from  the  beginning,  who 
cares  most  for  what  is  most  worth  having — should  do 
with  her  and  hers  what  He  knew  to  be  best. 

One  forlorn  hope  of  recovery  still  offered  itseK,  in  the 
advice  of  a  city  physician,  who  wa!^  held  an  oracle  in  lung 
diseases.  K  he  could  be  induced  to  come  such  a  dis- 
tance, might  he  not  still  save  him  ?  One  never  knows 
the  full  bitterness  of  poverty,  till  it  enters  into  the  ques- 
tion of  saving  a  dear  life.  "War  times  were  hard  for 
salaried  men,  whose  incomes,  always  small,  had  not  risen 
with  the  rise  of  all  expenses.  Mr.  Cameron  had  spared 
nothing  that  could  minister  to  Donald's  comfort.  The 
quarter's  account  was  already  overdrawn,  and  the  pai-ish 
collector  met  requests  for  money  with  dismal  reports  of 
hard  times.  The  doctoi-'s  visit  would  cost  a  formidable 
sum,  and  there  was  hardly  more  than  a  shadow  of  hope 


BETWEEN    LIFE    AND    DEATH.  413 

it  would  do  any  good.  Theodora  saw  a  way  througli  tlie 
difficulty.  The  "  piano  money  "  she  had  saved  from  her 
teaching,  she  had  drawn  upon  to  pay  the  expenses  of  her 
journey  to  Cincinnati,  and  her  board  while  there ;  she 
suddenly  bethought  herself  that  there  was  enough  left 
to  pay  for  the  physician's  visit.     So  he  was  sent  for. 

Donald  was  confident  he  would  know  how  to  cure  him. 
The  two  sisters  took  a  holiday  from  their  discouragement. 
The  father  and  mother,  more  experienced,  dared  open  the 
door,  only  a  very  little  way,  to  hope. 

The  very  presence  of  the  doctor  was  encouraging.  He 
looked  as  if  he  had  life  to  spare.  He  received  the  patient's 
answers  to  his  numberless  questions  as  if  they  were  all 
that  could  be  desired.  Theodora  watched  his  face  anxi- 
ously while  he  examined  her  brother's  lungs,  and  could 
discern  no  change  in  its  calm,  pleasant  expression.  Her 
pulse  beat  strong  with  hope.  After  the  examination,  he 
gave  minute  directions,  wrote  some  prescriptions,  drew 
Donald  into  talk  about  army  affairs,  telling  an  interesting 
anecdote  or  two,  and  left  his  patient  with  cheerful  looks 
and  tones,  telling  him  to  take  the  comfort  of  feeling  that 
he  was  suffering  for  his  country  just  as  much  as  if  it  were 
a  wound  instead  of  an  illness.  He  had  given  no  opinion, 
but  his  whole  air  was  inspiriting.  Donald's  cheeks  and 
lips  were  flushed  with  the  bright  color  of  his  boyhood, 
his  beautiful  eyes  beamed  with  new  life,  and  his  tones 
were  fii-mer  than  they  had  been  for  weeks. 

"  I  do  not  know  just  how  much  cod-liver  oil  he  said. 
He  hasn't  gone  yet,. has  he?  Eun  down  and  ask  him, 
please,"  he  said  to  Theodora. 

As  she  entered  the  sitting-room,  she  met  a  look  of  sad 
submission  in  her  father's  face ;  her  mother  was  in  tears. 
The  physician's  manner  was  very  grave.     She  sto})ped 


414  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

short  witli  lier  hand  od  her  father's  shoulder,  and  looked 
at  the  doctor,  while  her  heart  paused  in  its  beat. 

"  He  can  give  us  no  encouragement,  my  daughter,"  said 
her  father,  gently. 

"  Is  there  not  soine  hope  ?  "  she  asked,  turning  to  him 
appealingly. 

"  '  While  there  is  life  there  is  hope.'  In  that  sense 
there  is  hope  for  hiin  ;  no  other,  I  am  grieved  to  say." 

"  How  long —  "  the  mother  began  to  ask,  but  the  ques- 
tion shuddered  into  tears. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  say ;  it  may  be  days,  it  may  be 
months." 

A  slight  sound  in  the  room  above  i*eminded  Theodora 
that  Donald  would  wonder  and  make  inquiries  if  she  de- 
layed.    She  must  ask  his  question  and  hasten  back. 

"  In  close  hart  shutting  up  her  payne," 

she  went  into  the  sick  room,  met  the  hopeful  eyes  with 
an  answering  glance,  answered  his  inquiry  in  a  voice 
which  sounded  to  herself  like  that  of  another  person. 
He  was  sitting  in  a  large  rocking-chair,  and  she  took  ref- 
uge behind  it,  standing,  and  running  her  fingers  through 
his  hair,  as  he  liked  to  have  her. 

"  I  don't  know,  after  all,  but  I  shall  study  medicine 
when  I  get  well.  Such  a  doctor  as  that  can  do  more  good 
than  a  minister,  I  believe,"  said  he. 

"It  is  a  noble  profession." 

"  I  should  like  some  of  that  wine-jelly  now.  Feed  me, 
won't  you,  please.     I  am  a  little  tired." 

Her  heart  quailed  as  she  took  the  glass  and  knelt  beside 
him  to  put  spoonful  after  spoonful  between  his  dear  lips, 
with  his  eyes  full  upon  her.  She  could  govern  her  voice 
BO  long  as  she  was  out  of  sight. 


BETWEEN    LIFE   AND   DEATH.  415 

"  Did  he  say  bow  soon  he  thought  I  should  be  about  ? " 

"  No,  dear ;  I  saw  him  only  a  moment,  you  know.  Isn't 
it  nice  that  you  hke  this  jelly  !     It  is  so  nom-ishiug." 

Her  face  betrayed  her.  He  saw  the  subtle  change 
which  no  will  could  control. 

"  Doesn't  he  expect  me  to  get  well  ? "  he  asked,  laying 
his  hand  on  hers  to  check  her,  as  she  was  offering  him 
another  taste. 

His  touch  was  hot  and  tremulous  ;  his  eyes  demanded 
an  answer.  She  could  not  lie  to  him  ;  she  could  only  lift 
her  wet,  yearning  eyes  one  moment  to  his  face. 

He  pushed  aside  the  glass  and  turned  his  head. 

"  It  is  easy  for  a  stout,  six-footer  like  him  to  set  by  and 
doom  a  man  to  death." 

"  Oh,  not  that,  darling  !"  she  could  not  let  him  be  un- 
just even  then.  "  He  said  there  was  always  hope — while 
there  was  life." 

The  words  almost  died  on  her  hps ;  they  were  more 
hopeless  than  no  hope. 

A  quick,  nervous  cough  was  the  only  answer.  She 
caressed  and  kissed  his  hand,  and  laid  her  cheek  upon  it. 

"  Why  couldn't  I  have  been  shot  outright !"  he  burst 
forth,  passionately.  "  There  were  bullets  enough  and  to 
spare.     This  dying  by  inches  is  horrible  !  " 

"We  should  have  lost  all  these  precious  months  to- 
gether," she  murmured,  not  knowing  what  to  say,  though 
her  heai-t  was  ready  to  burst  for  him. 

"  Theodora,"  he  broke  out,  vehemently,  "  you  do  not 
know  what  it  is  to  have  Death  playing  with  you  like  a 
cat  with  a  mouse,  letting  you  run,  and  then  pouncing 
upon  you  again.  I  am  not  afraid  to  be  dead,  but  I  should 
have  been  glad  to  die  one  death,  and  done  with  it." 

^^  The  Lord  hllletJi  and  maketh  alive  i    He  'bringeth 


416  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOKT. 

dovm,  to  the  grave  and  hringeth  up,"  that  was  really  the 
only  comfort.  He  was  not  the  victim  of  the  pitiless 
monster — Death.  He  who  spared  not  His  own  Son  was 
watchine:  over  liim  in  love.  But  he  knew  that  as  well  as 
she.  She  could  not  remind  him  of  it  in  the  bitter  out- 
burst of  his  pain.  She  could  do  nothing  but  love  him 
and  silently  pray.  She  stood  beside  him,  and  drew  his 
head  to  her  breast.  Her  tears  dropped  gently  on  it ;  she 
kissed  his  hair,  his  forehead  ;  she  caressed  his  cheek. 
The  hectic  fire  burned  in  it  more  hotly  than  ever.  Suddenly 
a  terrible  fit  of  coughing  shook  him,  and  the  dreaded 
blood-stain  showed  the  havoc  this  excitement  was  making. 
His  father  came  up,  and  taking  him  as  when  he  was  a 
cliild,  placed  him  on  the  bed.  The  son's  arms  clung 
about  his  neck  a  moment,  as  he  laid  him  down,  and  his 
eyes  were  raised  to  his  face.  He  read  there  not  only  love 
and  pity,  but  the  heavenly  calm  of  a  spirit  which  has 
passed  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  into 
the  Land  of  Beulah.  It  seemed  to  quiet  and  strengthen 
him.     A  faint  smile  fiickered  over  his  face. 


XXXII. 


BUNSE  T . 


DOISTALD  required  very  little  care  during  the  night, 
but  Theodora  slept  in  the  adjoining-  room,  ready  to 
come  at  his  call.  She  lingered  about  him  that  evening, 
her  heart  aching  to  do  something  for  him.  She  had  put 
the  water,  and  the  slippery-elm,  and  the  little  bell  on  the 
stand  beside  him,  shaded  the  night-lamp,  and  stood  trying 
to  soothe  him  to  sleep,  by  brushing  the  soft  hair,  which 
seemed  darker  than  ever  since  his  forehead  had  grown  so 
pale  beneath  it.  But  the  long  eyelashes  would  not  close 
over.  At  last,  he  reached  up,  and  taking  her  wrist,  drew 
her  hand  down  and  kissed  it,  saying  : 

"  You  must  go,  dear.  You  are  too  tired  already." 
She  dared  not  stay,  for  the  eyes  he  lifted  to  her  face 
were  so  full  of  mournful  beauty,  that  she  could  not  look 
into  them  without  crying.  So  she  kissed  him,  and  stole 
away  to  her  own  room.  She  sank  on  her  knees  by  the 
bed,  and  hid  her  face  in  a  pillow  to  stifle  her  sobs.  Her 
brother  liked  to  have  the  door  open,  and  he  must  not 
hear  a  sigh.  Her  whole  soul  poured  itself  out  in  passion- 
ate prayer.  It  was  not  now  that  he  might  live.  She 
asked  that,  indeed,  but  it  was  with  an  "  If  it  be  possible," 
even  like  our  Saviour's,  knowing  that  it  was  not  possible. 
Her  one  importunate  petition  was  that  the  dear  soul  might 
have  the  victory  over  death.  By  degrees,  importunity 
was  calmed  into  trust.  Her  form  no  longer  shook  with 
18*  (417) 


418  THEODOKA  '.    A   HOME    STOKY. 

the  agonizing  intensity  of  desire.  She  felt  the  brooding 
love  of  the  Father.  She  gave  over  her  dear  one  to  Him 
who  is  the  Resiu-rection  and  the  Life. 

Softly  she  rose  and  went  to  the  window.  The  moon- 
light was  streaming  in,  and  lay  upon  the  floor  checked  by 
the  shadow  of  the  sash.  She  sat,  for  a  little,  looking  out 
on  the  garden,  the  hill,  the  meadows,  hstening  to  the 
I'iver  murmuiing  its  nightly  chant  for  the  sleeping  village. 
Sweet  memories  of  Donald  flooded  them  all  like  this 
tide  of  moon-beams.    Soon  they  would  be  only  memories ! 

Not  bitter  nor  rebellious,  but  tender  and  yearning,  her 
heart  told  over  its  beads  of  recollection,  and  breathed  with 
each  a  prayer  of  gratef  id  love.  With  the  pure,  soft  light 
that  bathed  her  face,  fell  the  smile  of  the  Comforter  upon 
her  spirit.  She  grew  strong  to  stay  up  her  beloved  even 
to  the  gates  of  death. 

She  lay  down  in  her  wrapper,  but  she  slept  as  a  mother 
sleeps,  ready  to  start  at  a  sound.  Donald  did  not  call. 
Twice  in  the  course  of  the  night  she  stole  in  to  see  if  it 
was  well  with  him.  Each  time  he  was  lying  awake,  his 
eyes  beaming  solemnly  out  of  his  white  face. 

"  You  don't  sleep,"  he  said,  when  she  came  for  the 
third  time.  "  I  shall  wear  you  out  if  you  cannot  rest 
at  night.     Eeally,  I  don't  need  anything." 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  sleep,  but  my  heart  waketh,  and  when  I 
happen  to  open  my  eyes,  I  love  to  see  that  you  are  all 
right." 

"  I  am  all  right,"  he  said  with  a  rare  smile ;  "  so  go 
to  sleep,  and  don't  worry  about  me." 

There  was  something  so  reassuring  in  his  way  of  saying 
it,  that  when  she  had  turned  his  pillow,  and  given  him 
drink,  she  went  back  and  gave  herself  up  to  sleep  soundly 
till  the  robins  called  her  in  the  morning.     It  was  always 


suisrsET.  419 

a  relief  to  her  wlieu  slie  woke,  to  hear  even  a  congh  from 
her  brother's  room.  Perfect  stilhiess  shed  an  unspoken 
fear  upon  her  heart.  It  beat  thick  as  she  stepped  into  her 
shppers,  and  walked  noiselessly  across  the  floor. 

She  blesssd  the  very  sheet  that  showed  the  faint 
motion  of  his  breath.  "  My  beautiful  Donald  !  "  she  said 
silently,  while  her  lips  quivered  and  her  eyes  filled. 
Every  sight  of  him  seemed  precious  now,  under  the 
shadow  of  that  day  which  must  soon  hide  him  forever. 
She  stood  leaning  on  the  back  of  an  easy-chair,  far 
enough  off  so  that  he  should  not  feel  her  presence,  and 
let  her  eyes  take  their  fill  of  gazing  at  him. 

The  boy's  radiant  color,  tlie  soldier's  hardy  bronze, 
were  gone,  but  so  was  all  the  ghastliness  of  the  half- 
starved  prisoner;  and  now  the  face,  white  as  marble, 
showed  in  every  outline  an  exquisite  blending  of  delicacy 
and  manliness.  It  seemed  to  her,  as  the  pm-e  light  of 
da^vn  fell  upon  it,  that  there  was  a  heavenly  peace  in  its 
ethereal  beauty  which  she  had  never  seen  before. 

All  at  once,  his  eyes  opened  and  she  came  forward 
quickly,  that  she  might  not  seem  to  have  been  watching 
him.     He  held  out  his  hand  to  her  and  smiled. 

"  It  is  all  right,  Theo.,''  he  said,  as  she  knelt  to  bring  her 
face  near  his.  "  '  Though  Pie  slay  me,  yet  I  trust  in  Him.'  " 

His  eyes  were  luminous  with  some  new  joy.  Her 
prayer  was  surely  answered.  She  dared  not  try  to  speak. 
She  only  laid  a  caressing  hand  on  his  head,  and  tried  to 
wink  back  the  tears. 

"  I  have  been  headstrong  and  rebellious,"  he  said ;  "  I 
wanted  so  much  to  live  and  do  something.  But  God 
knows  best.  He  could  have  given  me  life  if  He  had 
chosen.  I  would  not  take  it  out  of  His  hands  if  I  could ; 
not  for  worlds." 


420  theodoka:  a  home  stoet. 


"  *  Sweet  to  lie  passive  in  His  hands 
And  know  no  will  but  His,' " 

whispered  tlie  sister. 

"  Yes,  I  tliiiilc  I  have  come  to  that.  I  gave  myself  to 
my  Saviour  long  ago,  and  I  ought  not  to  have  doubted 
He  would  know  what  to  do  with  me.  I  have  been 
all  over  it  with  Him,  during  the  night,  and  He  is  so  wise 
and  so  tender,  it  grieves  me  to  think  of  resisting  Him  as 
I  have." 

"  You  did  not  mean  to  resist,"  said  she ;  "  it  was  only 
natural  to  feel  as  you  did." 

"  But  I  should  have  remembered  in  whose  hands  my 
breath  is.  I  should  have  liked  to  live ;  there  was  a  good 
deal  I  hoped  to  do,  and  then  I  love  you  all  so  much.  But 
if  He  sees  better  for  me  to  come  to  Him  now — why,  I  am 
ready."     He  spoke  cheerfully  and  ended  with  a  smile. 

She  dared  not  try  to  speak,  but  pressed  his  hand  and 
rose  to  leave  him  for  a  few  minutes. 

"  One  thing  more,"  he  said,  keeping  her  hand  a 
moment.  "  Let  us  have  just  as  good  a  time  as  we  can 
while  I  stay.  I  want  you  all  to  think  and  talk  of  it  just 
as  it  is ;  not  that  any  dreadful  thing  is  going  to  haj^pen 
me,  but  that  I  am  to  go  to  Heaven,  one  of  these  days, 
and  after  a  while  all  the  rest  of  you  will  join  me 
there.  Let  us  get  the  good  of  the  time  we  have 
together." 

And  they  did.     Love  taught  Sorrow  to  hold  her  peace. 

"  O  God!  it  was  a  time  divine, 
Rich  epoch  of  calm  grace, 
A  pressing  of  '  thcu" '  hearts  to  Thine 
In  mystical  embrace. 


SUNSET.  4:21 

"  The  work  of  years  was  done  in  days, 
Fights  won  and  trophies  given ; 
For  sorrow  is  the  atmosphere 
Which  ripens  hearts  for  heaven. 

"  Eternal  thoughts  in  simplest  words 
Fell  meekly  from  their  tongue, 
While  the  fragrance  of  Eternity 
To  their  silent  presence  clung." 

They  talked  mucli  of  the  fair  countiy  to  -^-hich  he  was 

going- 

"  I  do  not  try  to  imagine  jnst  how  it  will  be,"  he  would 
say ;  "  I  only  know  '  I  shall  be  satisfied.'  Whatever  He 
has  '  prepared '  will  be  sure  to  suit  me." 

Yet  it  was  not  so  much  the  country  as  the  Lord  of  the 
country,  he  liked  to  have  them  talk  about.  The  nearer 
came  the  hour  of  meeting  Him,  the  more  longingly  he 
looked  forward. 

"  I  shall  know  as  1  am  known,"  were  words  often  on 
his  lips. 

The  simple  things  of  every  day  amused  and  entertained 
him  still.  He  often  made  the  rest  of  them  laugh  when 
teare  were  ready  to  start.  Nothing  touched  them  so 
much  as  his  tender  care  for  them,  in  little  things,  weak 
and  suffering  as  he  was. 

One  by  one,  he  sent  for  his  old  friends,  and  had  sweet 
talks  with  them.  With  dying  eloquence  he  urged  the 
love  of  Christ  upon  them,  and  not  in  vain. 

Merlie  Myers  came  from  his  room,  crying,  as  if  her 
heart  would  break.  "  I  always  thought  it  would  be  hor- 
rid to  die,"  she  said,  "  but  I  never  saw  anything  so  beau- 
tiful in  my  life." 

As  for  Alice,  it  was  like  a  revelation  to  her.  Doubts 
which  had  haunted  her  mind  for  years,  slunk  away  before 


422  THEODORA:    A   HOME   STORY. 

the  clear  sliining  of  Lis  faith.  Her  face  was  paler  than 
its  wont,  in  those  days,  but  it  began  to  show  a  new  peace. 

Larabee  was  often  coming  to  do  what  he  could  for  the 
invalid. 

"Dear,  faithful  fellow  !"  Donald  would  say,  "  he  must 
know  his  Saviour,  and  he  will,  yet."  The  hope  was  not 
deceived. 

Years  after,  when  he  first  owned  Jesus  as  his  Master, 
he  said  he  never  could  forget  how  Lieut.  Cameron  used 
to  pray  for  him. 

The  other  children  wei-e  sent  for;  Miriam  and  Faith 
came  at  once.  The  only  desire  Donald  had  left  was 
to  see  his  brother  once  more  ;  but  whether  that  wish 
could  be  gi'atified  was  doubtful.  Robert,  with  his  com- 
mand, had  been  transferred  to  the  Potomac  in  the  Spring, 
at  the  same  time  that  his  Major-General  had  been  made 
Lieut.-General.  But  it  had  been  a  season  of  hard  fighting, 
and  he  had  not  yet  seen  the  time  when  bethought  it 
right  to  leave  his  brigade,  for  even  a  day's  visit  at  home. 

It  was  one  October  afternoon  that  the  dreaded  whis- 
per went  around  the  household  that  the  end  had  come. 
Theodora  had  seen  death  many  times — her  sisters,  never. 
She  remembered  the  hard  rending  asunder  the  soul  and 
body  she  had  witnessed  more  than  once,  and  hid  her  face 
to  pray  that  God  would  take  him  gently.  lie  surely 
would,  she  thought,  he  was  so  ready  for  Heaven.  All 
the  sisters  had  a  secret  hope  that  some  bright  vision 
would  be  given  him,  that  he  would  catch  sight  of  the 
angels  before  he  let  go  of  them.  But  no  ;  it  was  to  be 
faith,  faith  only,  to  the  veiy  last  breath. 

He  lay  panting  on  the  dear  bosom  that  had  nursed  him 
in  babyhood ;  his  sisters  stood  or  knelt  behind  him,  fan- 
ning him,  kissing  hits   hand,  murmuring  last  words  of 


SUNSET.  423 

clearest  love ;  his  father  sat  by  tlie  bed  often,  repeating 
strong  words  of  hope.  The  sufferer  seemed  to  drink 
them  in.  Even  this  road  his  Saviour  had  trodden  before 
him. 

A  paroxysm  of  pain  almost  took  away  his  breath  ;  then 
it  labored  on  again.  "Oh,  Lord,  how  long?"  groaned 
Miriam.  She  could  see  him  die  better  than  she  could 
see  him  suffer.  He  looked  up  with  heavenly  meekness, 
and  whispered :  "  He  loves  me  just  the  sameP 

The  afternoon  wore  on.  The  body  was  loth  to  part 
with  its  bright  spirit.  Fond  munnurs,  half-hushed  sobs, 
the  cordials  held  to  the  failing  lips,  told  the  dying  one 
how  love  longed  to  buoy  him  up  till  the  dark  river  was 
passed.  He  could  not  speak  much,  it  was  enough  to 
breathe  ;  but  a  deathless  faith  beamed  from  his  eyes. 
Now  and  then  some  grateful  or  courageous  word,  with 
difficulty  spoken,  seemed  like  to  break  their  hearts. 

"  I  wish  I  could  help  you,  my  dear  child,"  said  the 
father  tenderly.  "  But  the  Saviour  can  and  will.  He 
hung  in  dying  agony  from  the  third  hour  to  the  ninth, 
you  know." 

"  It  is  enough  for  the  disciple — "  gasped  Donald  with 
earnest  looks. 

" '  That  he  be  as  his  Master  and  the  servant  as  his 
Lord,' "  said  his  father,  finishing  the  sentence  for  him. 
"  Presently  you  will  be  with  Him,  and  all  this  trouble  of 
getting  to  Him  will  seem  like  nothing." 

Li  gentle,  cheering  tones,  he  repeated  the  Iledeemer's 
parting  message :  "  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled :  ye 
believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  Me.  Li  my  Father's  house 
are  many  mansions  :  if  it  were  not  so,  I  would  have  told 
you.  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you.  And  if  I  go  and 
pi'epare  a  place  for  you,  I  will  come  again  and  receive 


424:  THEODOEA :  a  home  story. 

you  unto  myself:  that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be 
also." 

Long  streams  of  Autumn  sunshine  lay  across  the  room. 
The  crimson  woodbine  rustled  at  the  open  window. 
They  heard  the  rush  of  the  daily  train  across  the  mea- 
dows, and  the  distant  whistle  of  the  locomotive  at  the  sta- 
tion. It. seemed  a  profane  sound  to  intrude  upon  that 
vestibule  of  Heaven.  Five  minutes  later,  wheels  dashed 
into  the  yard  at  full  speed;  Miriam  stole  from  the  room, 
and  the  next  moment  a  quick  footstep  was  heard  on  the 
stairs. 

Donald  had  been  lying  as  if  only  half-conscious,  his 
eyes  closed.  At  the  first  sound  of  that  footfall,  they 
opened  and  turned  towards  the  door.  A  beautiful  light 
broke  over  his  face,  and  he  held  out  his  feeble  arms  as 
his  brother  appeared. 

"  Dear  old  boy !"  he  whispered,  as  the  stalwart  Gen- 
eral knelt  beside  him  with  swimming  eyes.  He  laid  his 
thin  hand  on  the  shouldei-^trap,  and  said,  with  his  old 
boyish  smile,  and  a  glance  upward,  "  I  shall  rank  you — 
after  all." 

Tliat  heart-breaking  smile  was  more  than  Robert  could 
bear.  He  gave  a  great  sob,  then  mastered  himself.  "  Do 
stay  a  little  longer,  Donald.  I  must  see  you  a  little  while  !" 

"  Time  enough,  by-and-by,"  he  whispered.  Slowly  his 
eyes  traveled  around  the  dear  group  with  a  look  of  love 
for  each.  "  All  together  again,  pretty  soon — and  Jesus, 
too ;"  they  all  saw  the  smile,  Robert  caught  the  words, 
and  repeated  them  aloud,  adding  softly  :  "  And  they  shall 
go  no  more  out  for  ever." 

"  He  wants  to  speak  to  you,"  said  Faith  to  Theodora, 
whose  face  was  hidden  on  her  shoulder.  She  bent  over 
him  and  listened. 


SUNSET.  425 

"  Send  my  piison  Bible  to  Yince — say  I  loved  him  to 
the  end." 

"  Yes,  darling,  I  will." 

He  lay  breathing  more  and  more  faintly,  while  day 
faded  into  twilight.  Suddenly,  as  if  in  haste,  he  whis- 
pered : 

"  Kiss  me,  mother !" 

She  folded  her  arms  around  him,  and  while  she  poured 
out  a  heartful  of  yearning  in  the  last  kiss,  the  father 
bowed  his  grey  head,  and  said,  solemnly  : 

"  Father !  into  Thy  hands  we  commend  his  spirit." 

One  more  fluttering  breath,  and 

"  The  sun  eternal  breaks, 
The  soul  immortal  wakes; 
Wakes  with  its  God !" 


XXXIII. 


SILENCE. 


THE  bleakest  day  of  bleak  ITovember,  Theodora 
Cameron  has  come  in  with  cheeks  and  eyes  bright 
from  battling  the  storm,  and  now,  watei"proof  and  rubber 
boots  put  to  dry,  she  sits  by  the  sitting-room  fire,  open- 
ing the  letter  she  has  l)rought  from  the  post-office.         , 

Her  mother  is  in  her  old  place  by  the  window  near  the 
plant-stand.  She  drops  her  book  in  her  lap  to  gaze  at 
her  child  ;  she  is  so  glad  to  see  her  looking  fresher  than 
she  has  for  weeks.  Patient  and  trustful  as  she  has  been, 
she  could  not  help  flagging  a  little  when  she  no  longer 
had  Donald  to  keep  up  for.  Even  while  the  mother  was 
rejoicing  in  it,  the  healthful  color  died  away  and  the  face 
became  wan. 

"  What  is  it,  my  dear  ?     Is  there  any  trouble  ?" 
"  No,  mother.     It  is  a  little  sad  ;  that  is  all." 
She  handed  her  the  short  letter  and  went  out  of  the 
room. 
It  read: 

" Illinois  Reg't,     Army  Corps,  \ 

"Near  Chattanooga,  Oct.  28,  '64.      f 

"  My  Dear  Friend  : — Donald's  Bible,  with  your  letter 
and  his  parting  message,  came  last  night.  They  will  be 
kept  among  my  most  sacred  treasures.  You  are  quite 
beyond  any  poor  comfort  I  could  give.  The  Great  Com- 
forter Himself  has  given  you  a  heavenly  peace  I  would 
C426) 


SILENCE.  427 

gladly  share.      God   knows  I  have  need  enough  of  it! 
These  are  dark  days  to  me. 

''  I  once  promised  Donald  that  some  friend  should 
write,  if  any  chance  of  war  ended  my  life.  By  your 
leave,  I  will  still  count  the  promise  binding,  in  the  hope 
that  you  may  care  to  know  what  becomes  of  his  '  Yince.' 

"  Whatever  happens,  if  we  never  meet  again,  it  may 
be  something  for  you  to  know  that  the  thought  of  you 
never  comes  into  my  mind  without  bringing  light  and 
strength.     When,  indeed,  is  it  ever  out  of  my  mind  ! 

"It  is  time  to  stop.  If  God  has  one  blessing  to  bestow, 
better  than  all  others,  may  it  be  yours. 

"  Faithfully,         Ylncent  Kolfe." 

The  girl  was  glad  to  get  away  from  her  mother's  too 
observing  eyes,  for  that  letter  had  sent  a  chill  to  her 
heart.  It  was  a  good-bye.  It  took  it  for  gi-anted  she 
was  never  to  hear  from  him  again,  unless  she  heard  that 
he  was  dead  !  And  she  had  so  many  things  to  tell  him  ! 
His  letters  were  such  a  comfort !  And  then  there  was  a 
tone  of  hopeless  pain  in  it,  which  was  altogether  unlike 
him.  As  if  to  hear  him  say  something  different,  she 
opened  the  drawer  of  Donald's  desk,  which  was  half-full 
of  his  letters,  and  read  again  the  last,  which  had  come 
only  thi-ee  days  before,  written  immediately  after  re- 
ceiving the  announcement  of  his  friend's  death,  which 
she  had  telegraphed,  as  he  had  asked  her  to  do.  She  did 
not  need  to  read  it ;  she  already  knew  it  by  heart — that 
tribute  to  her  brother  had  been  so  precious  to  her.  He 
knew  him  better  than  any  one  beside  themselves ;  he 
was  never  lavish  in  praise,  and  he  spoke  of  him  with 
such  strong,  admiring  love !     At  the  last  he  said  : 

"  Except  my  mother's  death,  this  is  by  far  the  deepest 


428  theodoea:  a  home  story. 

gi-ief  that  I  have  known.  Yet  it  is  your  sorrow,  my 
sweet  friend,  that  I  feel  more  bitterly  than  my  own.  If 
I  could  bear  it  all  for  you,  how  thankfully  1  would  do 
it !  That  I  cannot  be  near  you,  nor  do  you  one  little 
service  in  your  great  trouble,  is  the  hardest  thing  I  have 
to  endure." 

She  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to  write  again,  and  yet  there 
were  so  many  things,  every  day,  that  she  wanted  to  say 
to  him !  His  frank,  sympathetic  letters  had  drawn  her 
into  the  habit  of  writing  him  nearly  everything  that  was 
in  her  mind.  'Not  to  be  able  to  speak  to  him  or  Donald, 
either,  was  hard.  Death  had  taken  away  one,  and  Hfe 
the  other,  and  life  was  more  cruel  than  death ;  Donald 
never  would  have  left  her  of  his  owti  accord,  but  Rolf e — 
had  he  not  chosen  to  drop  her  ?  She  called  up  her  wo- 
manly pride ;  did  she  want  anything  of  him  if  he  did  not 
of  her  ?  But  as  she  read  over  his  old  letters,  they 
were  so  full  of  devoted  friendship,  of  manly  appreciation 
of  her  womanly  help,  that  pride  died  away  and  her  heart 
asserted  that  he  did  want  something  of  her.  Was  that 
letter  the  very  last,  after  all  'i  It  sounded  as  if  he  was 
suffeiing,  and  perhaps  she  could  comfort  him.  Did  he 
not  say  as  much,  in  fact  ?  "Was  it  not  a  false  delicacy 
that  forbade  her  writing  at  least  one  little  note  in  re- 
sponse to  his  last  kind  words  ?  Surely  it  had  been  too 
dear  and  strong  a  friendship  to  be  broken  off  in  this 
blind,  miserable  way  !  She  would  write  just  once  more. 
■  For  the  two  weelcs  required  to  send  a  letter  and  get  a 
reply,  she  was  happy  and  expectant.  Then  she  began  to 
watch  the  mail,  eagerly — anxiously — despairingly.  No 
answer  ever  came. 

At  first,  her  strongest  feeling  was  one  of  deep  chagrin. 


SILENCE.  429 

"He  might  at  least  have  answered.  He  has  cut  short 
the  correspondence  as  if  he  was  afraid  I  should  think  he 
meant  something !"  she  said  to  herself  with  burning 
cheeks.  Away  down  in  those  regions  of  the  heart  which 
consciousness  chooses  to  ignore,  she  did  think  he  had 
"  meant  something."  Thougli  he  had  never  said  it,  in  so 
many  words,  the  subtle  breath  of  love  had  perfumed  with 
its  sweetness  every  letter  he  had  written  her  for  weeks 
before  the  last.  She  had  called  it  sympathy,  but  she 
knew  better.  And  now  he  had  suddenly  withdrawn 
into  utter  silence,  craving  Heaven's  best  blessing  upon 
her,  saying,  with  the  last  breath,  that  she  was  never  out 
of  his  thoughts,  and  that  she  brought  him  light  and 
strength. 

A  dreary  sensation  of  being  shut  out  in  the  cold  weigh- 
ed upon  her.  Whatever  it  meant,  it  could  not  mean  that 
he  was  fickle.  It  was  more  necessary  to  her  loyal,  aching 
heart  to  believe  in  him  than  to  have  him  care  for  her. 
He  had  said  nothing  that  a  tender,  faithful  friend  might 
not  say.  She  had  been  a  foolish  girl  to  think  so  much 
of  it.  She  hardly  ever  spoke  of  him  unless  it  was  with 
her  youngest  sister  ;  sometimes  it  seemed  as  if  she  must 
talk  of  him,  and  Jessie  was  an  unsuspecting  child.  But 
the  unsuspecting  child  was  romantic ;  Col.  Rolfe  was  a 
hero  in  her  imagination;  he  was  just  good  enough  for 
her  idolized  sister ;  she  had  it  all  planned,  and  she  did 
not  like  the  way  matters  were  going. 

"  I  think  it  is  mean  of  him  not  to  write  any  more  !" 
she  declared,  at  last. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ? "  asked  Theodora,  with  displeas- 
ure. "  Why  should  he  write  ?  He  was  Donald's  cor- 
respondent, not  mine." 

Jessie  concluded  she  had  made  a  great  mistake,  and 


430  THEODORA:  a  home  story. 

thev  did  not  care  anything  about  each  other,  after  all. 
But  it  was  too  bad. 

So  the  joung  lady  flattered  herself  that  no  one  saw  she 
was  missing  him.  When  her  mother  sent  her  off  for  a 
long  walk  or  ride  in  the  crisp  air,  or  brought  home  an 
interesting  book  for  her  to  read,  or  invited  some  old 
friend  to  spend  a  few  days,  she  never  betrayed  that  she 
divined  that  this  daughter  was  suffering  any  trial  save 
that  which  was  common  to  them  all. 

Theodora  tried  to  enter  into  all  these  things,  to  make  it 
pleasant  for  the  rest,  and  not  to  mind  herself.  But  a 
healthy  young  heart  will  clamor  for  happiness.  Hers  had 
carried  a  weight  of  care  and  sorrow  so  long  that  it  de- 
manded satisfaction.  It  wanted  to  till  out  the  circle  of 
life's  loves.  It  complained  that  gifts  should  have  been 
pressed  upon  it  which  it  could  not  take,  and  this  one  only 
thing  it  craved  should  be  denied.  "  I  could  have  loved 
him,"  was  its  simple  sentence.  It  was  lonesome  to  leave 
him  out  of  her  life  ;  it  was  not  to  miss  him  only,  it  was 
to  miss  a  great  part  of  herself. 

Finally  this  rebellious  heart  grew  so  importunate  that 
she  turned  upon  it  severely  : 

"  What  are  you,  that  you  should  have  everything  you 
want  ?  I  do  not  suppose  there  is  more  than  one  person 
in  a  hundred  gets  the  thing  he  wants  most  of  all,  and  why 
should  you  be  the  hundredth  person?  What  if  you 
haven't  the  most  and  the  best — you  have  more  that  is 
good  and  dear  than  most  people  have." 

It  cowered  somewhat  under  this  scolding,  and  tried  to 
be  reasonable,  but  it  still  kept  up  a  quiet  moaning ;  so  she 
took  it  in  hand  more  gently : 

"  Don't  you  believe  God  loves  you  ?  He  will  give 
you  what  is  really  good  for  you." 


SILENCE.  431 

"  Love  would  be  good  for  me,"  niTittered  tlie  wilful  lieart. 

"  Perliaps  it  would  liave  been,  if  you  had  been  better 
yourself  ;  but  you  are  a  foolish,  idolatrous  kind  of  heart — 
you  want  some  one  to  worship.  Perhaps  He  sees  this  is 
the  only  way  to  make  you  strong  in  yourself  and  in  Him. 
You  are  willing  to  suffer  for  that,  aren't  you  ? " 

"  Yes,"  came  the  answer,  very  like  a  sigh. 

"  Then  be  a  brave  heart !  There  is  work  enough  to 
do !  The  service  always  stays,  whoever  goes.  You  can 
be  poor,  and  yet  make  many  rich." 

With  that  she  began  to  live  in  the  lives  of  others  more 
than  she  ever  had  before.  She  crept  very  close  to  the 
Master,  and  learning  every  day  from  Him,  she  carried  to 
other  souls  the  lessons  He  taught  her.  It  is  wonderful 
how  every  deep  experience  of  life  opens  our  eyes  to  fresh 
meaning  in  common  things.  We  express  our  new  emo- 
tions, and  are  surprised  to  find  the  expression  nothing  dif- 
ferent from  what  we  have  read  or  heard  a  hundred  times. 
We  suddenly  discover  that  the  old  adage,  the  well-known 
text,  the  familiar  hymn,  was  full  of  startling  truth. 

When  we  first  come  into  the  great  family  of  the  be- 
reaved, we  can  hardly  understand  that  people  all  about 
us  have  been  suffering  this  which  has  befallen  us,  like  a 
strange  thing  under  the  sun.  Donald's  death  had  brought 
the  ministei-'s  family  and  the  parish  into  tender  sympathy 
with  each  other.  A  good  pastor,  like  a  good  physician, 
is  beloved  with  that  love  given  only  to  one  who  has  held 
us  up  when  heart  and  flesh  were  failing.  His  presence 
is  blended  with  the  most  sacred  passages  of  family 
history.  There  is  felt  for  him  that  peculiar  gratitude 
which  is  resei-ved  for  the  soul's  benefactors. 

Now  that  they  saw  the  Camerons  smitten,  stricken  of 
God  and  afflicted,  their  people  seemed  bent  upon  pouring 


432  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOET. 

back  into  their  bosoms,  good  measure  pressed  down, 
shaken  together,  and  running  over,  all  tlie  kindness  and 
succor  which  had  been  given  to  themselves  in  their 
trouble.  So  it  was  that  not  only  the  father  and  mother, 
but  their  daughter,  as  well,  found  every  house  and  heart 
in  the  parish  open  to  her.  It  is  a  beautiful  thing  in  God's 
providence  that  no  soul  can  gain  a  victory  for  itself  in 
the  most  silent  hour  of  its  own  deep  solitude  without 
kindling  other  souls  with  the  electric  touch  of  courage. 
"  ISTone  of  them  that  trust  in  Him  shall  be  desolate."  In 
the  strong  support  of  the  Saviour,  in  the  noble  pain  of 
patience,  in  the  discoveiy  of  hidden  strength  within  one- 
self, there  is  a  rare,  heroic  happiness  which  tame  prosperity 
knows  nothing  about.     Theodora  was  not  desolate. 

She  went  back  to  her  art  with  earnest  study.  She  felt 
it  was  time  for  her  to  be  at  work  again.  But  where  ? 
She  had  slipped  out  of  the  ranks,  and  hardly  knew  how 
to  find  her  way  back.  She  wrote  at  a  venture  to  her  old 
music-teacher,  Miss  Scott,  who  had  gone  from  Eock- 
bridge  to  Boston,  years  before,  and  had  become  a  success- 
ful teacher  there.     She  replied : 

"  If  you  can  only  come  within  three  days,  I  think  I 
can  get  you  in,  as  contralto,  in  our  church.  They  are  in 
search  of  a  new  singer  ;  there  are  two  or  three  who  will 
be  pressed,  but  I  know  you  sing  better  than  either  of 
them.  The  organist  is  a  friend  of  mine,  who  believes  in 
my  judgment,  and  he  says,  come.  I  have  more  piano 
scholars  than  I  know  what  to  do  with,  and  can  easily 
start  you  with  a  small  class,  which  will  be  sure  to  grow, 
if  you  are  as  faithful  a  worker  as  yon  used  to  be.  You 
must  be  here  so  that  the  committee  can  hear  you  sing 
Thursday  night.     Don't  fail." 


SILENCE.  433 

Accordingly,  she  made  her  appearance  before  the 
dreaded  Boston  committee,  Thursday  evening,  and  went 
back  to  Miss  Scott's  boarding-place  with  her,  feeling  that 
she  had  sung  in  a  mechanical  way,  never  forgetting  that 
she  was  a  candidate  and  they  were  critics.  However,  one 
of  the  gentlemen  called  the  next  day,  said  some  kind 
things  about  her  performance,  which  put  her  at  her  ease, 
interested  her  in  talk  about  music,  and  almost  before  she 
knew  it,  had  her  singing.  He  ended  by  engaging  her  at 
a  good  salary. 

In  a  few  weeks,  she  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  that  she 
had  gone  beyond  their  expectations.  She  began  to  be 
much  petted  and  flattered  as  a  singer. 

"  I  don't  know  but  I  am  in  a  little  danger  of  having 
my  head  turned,"  she  wrote  her  mother ;  "  but  I  hope 
to  keep  it  straight  by  remembering  that  it's  only  the  nice 
things  that  I  hear — of  course  there  are  plenty  of  the 
other  sort  said.  I  remind  myself,  besides,  that  compli- 
ments mean  no  more,  paid  to  me,  than  I  see  they  do  of- 
fered to  other  people.' 

Miss  Scott  was  one  of  those  energetic  and  beneficent 
old  maids,  who,  having  settled  the  main  question  of  life 
for  themselves,  take  pleasure  in  managing  the  affairs  of 
their  younger  friends.  She  was  a  fine  teacher,  witli  an 
inexhaustible  working  power,  whose  shrewd  sense  and 
untiring  spirits  had  won  her  many  fiiends.  Theodora 
could  not  well  have  had  a  better  sponsor  and  adviser. 
She  urged,  as  the  best  economy  in  the  end,  that  she  should 
take  board  at  the  same  house  with  herself,  although  it  was 
a  somewhat  stylish  and  costly  place.  She  did  so,  and 
found  an  interesting  variety  of  persons  among  her  twenty 
19 


434  theodoea:  a  HO]yrE  stokt. 

fellow-boarders,  all  of  whom  seemed  to  look  upon  Miss 
Scott  as  "  a  character,"  whose  oiDinions  were  to  be  re- 
spected. 

The  handsomest  suite  of  apartments  in  the  house  was 
occupied  that  Winter  by  the  Bowjer  family,  from  some 
place  in  J^ew  York.  The  first  day  she  saw  them  at  din- 
ner, Theodora  noticed  with  them,  at  the  other  end  of  the 
table,  a  tall,  slender,  fashionable  young  lady,  who  looked 
strangely  familiar.  She  was  talking  with  a  kind  of  gal- 
vanized animation  to  the  gentleman  beside  her,  and  when 
he  left  the  table,  subsided  into  a  languid  indifference.  Pres- 
ently, a  tm-n  of  the  head  gave  a  fuller  view  of  her  face, 
and  she  recognized  Miss  Flora  Yan  Ritter,  considerably 
faded,  a  shade  coarsened,  but  very  much  herself,  after  all. 

"A  niece  of  Mrs.  Bowyer's,  spending  the  Winter  with 
her,"  explained  Miss  Scott,  in  an  undertone. 

Miss  Yan  Eitter  was  by  turns  patronizing,  indifferent, 
confidential  toward  the  singer.  In  the  latter  mood,  she 
was  beguiling  one  rainy  March  morning,  in  Theodora's 
"  sky-parlor."  She  drew  a  brilliant  diamond-ring  off 
from  her  third  finger,  and  put  it  on  her  first,  saying  : 

"  That  is  where  that  really  belongs." 

"  Why  don't  you  wear  it  there  then  ? "  asked  Miss 
Cameron,  glancing  up  fi-om  her  Spring  hat,  which  she 
was  trimming. 

Miss  Yan  Ritter  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  What  is 
the  use  of  a  girl's  proclaiming  to  all  creation  that  she's 
engaged  ?     I  like  to  enjoy  my  liberty  while  I  have  it." 

"  But  what  would  the  gentleman  say  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  wear  it  on  the  first  finger  when  he  is  about.  I 
can  manage  him  well  enough.  He  dotes  on  me,  poor  fel- 
low. Don't  you  know  who  it  is  ?  Guess.  You  know 
him.     Our  old  friend,  Benjamhi  Franklin." 


SILENCE.  435 

"  Is  it  so  ? "  returned  Theodora,  with  an  interested 
smile.  She  did  not  pursue  the  subject,  however ;  she 
thought  Ben  Walton  deserved  a  better  fate. 

About  Kew  Year's,  Theodora  had  received  a  kind  note 
of  condolence  from  Miss  Fletcher,  of  Cincinnati.  Its  first 
sentence  was  :  "  I  was  deeply  grieved  to  learn  from  Col. 
Rolfe  of  your  dear  brothei-'s  death."  The  letter  was 
written  with  the  utmost  delicacy  and  kindness,  and  she 
answered  it  gratefully  ;  but  that  first  sentence,  she  found 
it  impossible  to  allude  to.  That,  she  thought,  explained 
everything.  Stnpid,  that  she  had  not  thought  of  that 
before  !  She  ought  to  be  glad,  she  told  herself.  Miss 
Fletcher  was  a  much  more  accomplished  lady  than  she  ; 
lovely,  rich,  and  gracious. 

"  We  needs  must  love  the  highest  when  we  see  it." 

She  was  far  more  worthy  of  him.  If  the  sweetest 
thing  life  could  have  brought  her  was  bestowed  upon 
another,  she  must  learn  to  accept  the  fact,  and  be 
unselfishly  glad  for  them — RoKe  and  the  woman  of  his 
choice. 

It  is  a  great  thing  for  a  wounded  spirit  to  make  what 
the  doctors  call  "  a  clean  recovery  ; "  to  have  no  soreness, 
no  distortion,  left.  That  great  thing  had  been  given  to 
Theodora.  Once  in  a  while,  her  heart  would  cry  out, 
like  a  child  which  has  been  put  to  bed  hungry ;  but  in 
the  main  it  behaved  well.  Love  had  only  showed  her, 
by  dropping  into  her  nature  the  plummet  of  pain,  what 
depths  of  joy  were  possible  to  it ;  but  it  had  left  her  a 
sweeter  and  a  stronger  woman  than  before. 

Meanwhile,  public  affairs  became  more  engrossing  than 


436  THEODOEA  :    A   HOME   SlbET. 

ever.  The  gi-eat  tragedy  had  reached  its  last  act.  There 
came,  at  last,  that  memorable  Saturday,  when  strangers 
were  shaking  hands  for  joy  that  the  war  was  over — when 
the  dense  crowd  of  money-changers  stood  still  in  "Wall 
street,  to  sing,  with  moistened  eyes  and  heartfelt  thanks- 
giving :  "  Praise  God,  from  whom  all  blessings  flow  ! " 
Eegiments  which  had  long  confronted  each  other  in 
deadly  strife,  could  hardly  be  restrained,  till  the  articles 
of  surrender  were  signed,  from  mixing  like  old  cronies, 
trading  jack-knives  and  tobacco,  and  exchanging  recol- 
lections. The  old  Ship  of  State,  instead  of  being  Ijroken 
up  into  pitiful  rafts,  had  outiidden  the  howling  storm, 
and  sailed  grandly  into  port. 

Only  one  little  week,  and  that  other  Saturday  broke 
in  horror  I  Dismay,  vengeance,  grief,  as  of  children  for 
a  father  slain,  struck  dumb  half  a  nation.  It  was  sad, 
but  it  was  sublime,  to  see,  to  feel,  millions  of  hearts 
fused  into  one  passion  of  lo'V'ing  sorrow  for  their  true, 
rough,  tender-hearted  chieftain,  so  cruelly  struck  down. 

Among  the  passengers  who  arrived  in  Boston  by  the 
early  steamboat-train  from  New  York,  the  first  morning 
of  June,  was  an  officer  of  Sherman's  army.  He  was 
bound  for  a  point  farther  North,  on  private  business  of 
importance  ;  but,  having  been  charged  with  despatches 
for  the  Governor,  he  was  obliged  to  spend  a  day  in 
Boston.  It  was  his  first  visit  to  that  ancient  and  honor- 
able town,  and  having  sent  his  valise  to  his  hotel  and 
reported  himself  at  the  State  House,  he  gave  himseK  up 
to  exploring  the  city. 

It  was  such  a  day  as  Boston  never  saw  before.  Solid 
columns  of  people  moved  slowly  along  the  sidewalks, 
with  gi-ave  faces,  silent,  or  speaking  only  as  we  speak  in 
sick-rooms.     Everywhere  was  to  be  seen  the  ''  pageantry 


SILENCE.  437 

of  woe."  Those  wholesale  blocks  of  solid  granite,  which 
have  since  vanished  in  smoke,  were  black  with  di-aperies 
of  the  richest  stnffs.  From  the  windows  of  poor  tene- 
ment-honses  hung  mnstj  black  aprons  or  scarfs.  AH 
along  "Washington  street,  taste  and  skill  had  labored  to 
express  in  fitting  symbols  the  love  and  honor  felt  for  the 
murdered  President ;  for  this  was  the  day  set  apai-t  to 
his  memory  by  proclamation  of  the  Government. 

It  was  six  weeks  since  the  assassination,  and  yet  the 
stranger  noticed  that  the  people,  inst^d  of  gazing  at  the 
sable  trappings  in  idle  curiosity,  looked  about  with  a  sad 
thoughtfulness,  as  one  might  notice  floral  emblems  at  the 
funeral  of  a  dear  friend. 

"  There  never  was  a  ruler  loved  and  mourned  like  this 
before.  Colonel,"  remarked  a  sociable  Bostonian,  who 
happened  next  the  stranger,  in  the  crowd. 

"  I  believe  it,  sir.     It  is  a  good  sign  for  om-  people." 

"  Yes,  sir.  It  is  simple  manhood  they  do  homage  to. 
Are  you  going  to  hear  one  of  the  funeral  orations?'' 

"  I  think  I  will." 

"  Where  did  you  think  of  going,  if  I  may  ask  ? " 

"  It  is  indifferent  to  me.  I  am  a  stranger  here,  and 
know  little  about  your  Boston  preachers." 

"  Come  with  me,  then,  and  you  will  hear  the  most  elo- 
quent discourse  that  will  be  given  in  the  city  to-day,  and 
can  have  a  seat,  besides,  in  my  pew." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  answered  the  officer,  walking  along 
with  him. 

"  Lately  from  the  army  ? " 

"  Directly." 

Upon  that  began  a  conversation,  the  citizen  asking- 
questions  and  the  soldier  answering,  which  lasted  till  they 
mingled  with  the  throng  pressing  in  at  the  chm*ch  doors. 


4)38  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

The  dimness  of  dark-draped  arches,  the  hush  of  sadness, 
the  droop  of  flags  half  hid  in  crape,  the  mute  sweetness 
of  pale  flowers,  subdued  them  as  thej  entered.  The 
organ's  solemn  thunder,  the  grand  and  tender  hannonies 
of  chanted  Scripture,  tones  of  reverent  prayer,  and  strains 
of  eloquent  truth,  gave  voice  to  the  feeling  of  the  hour. 
Besides  the  sorrow  of  an  orphaned  people,  there  was  felt, 
throughout  the  North,  consternation,  as  of  a  ship's  com- 
pany who  see  their  wise  and  faithful  pilot  washed  over- 
board just  as  they  eyter  the  breakers  of  the  harbor  bar. 
Tliis  feeling,  running  in  magnetic  sympathy  through  the 
dense  audience,  grew  painful  in  its  intensity. 

After  the  sermon,  came  a  requiem,  stately-sad  as  the 
inarch  of  a  mourning  army.  Then  all  voices  died  away 
but  one ;  one  female  voice,  rich,  sweet,  and  strong.  From 
depths  of  grief  it  climbed  to  a  triumphant  faith.  Like 
the  silver  trumpet  of  an  angel,  it  poured  forth  the  strong 
words  of  consolation,  "  The  Lord  is  mindful  of  His  own." 
When  she  ended,  and  the  long  sigh  of  released  attention 
ran  through  the  church,  pulses  beat  strong  with  patriotic 
courage,  and  eyes  were  bright  with  the  Christian's  trust. 

As  the  audience  rose  to  depart,  the  Colonel  turned 
quickly  to  his  companion,  asking : 

"  Can  you  tell  me  the  name  of  your  contralto  singer  ? " 

"•  Is  that  the  one  who  sang  the  solo  ?  I  don't  know 
one  part  from  another." 

"  Yes ;  do  you  know  her  name  ? "  He  looked  at  the 
man  as  if  he  would  read  the  name  in  his  brain,  if  he  did 
not  happen  to  remember  it. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  I  know  perfectly.  It's  Miss — Miss — why 
can't  I  think !  She  came  about  Christmas,  and  we  are 
very  proud  of  her.  Now,  I  have  spoken  that  name  a 
hundred  times!     Why  can't  I  recall  it?     There  is  not 


SILENCE.  439 

another  quartette  in  the  eitj   that  has  so  fine  a  lady 
singer,  we  think." 

While  the  gentleman  was  beating  his  memory  in  hopes 
of  shaking  the  name  out  of  its  folds,  the  officer  was  try- 
ing to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  singer.  The  choir  was  at 
the  rear  of  the  church,  which  was  darkened  by  funereal 
drapery.  The  pew  which  they  occupied  was  far  toward 
the  front,  and  a  massive  pillar  came  exactly  in  range  be- 
tween. The  packed  crowd  moved  only  by  inches.  By 
the  time  the  two  gentlemen  made  their  way  mto  the 
aisle,  where  they  had  an  open  view,  not  a  person  re- 
mained in  the  choir. 

"  Cameron — Miss  Cameron !  "  exclaimed  the  Bostonian, 
behind  his  hat.     "  That's  the  name." 

"  I  thought  so ! "  returned  Colonel  Kolfe,  quietly,  but 
a  little  pale. 

When  the  slow  human  river  finally  bore  them  out  at 
the  broad  door,  the  Colonel's  clear,  quick  eyes  searched 
the  solid  mass  of  faces  that  filled  the  vestibule,  the  stair- 
ways, and  all  the  space  down  into  the  street.  To  no 
purpose.    He  turned  to  his  chance  acquaintanc  e,  and  said : 

"  If  you  can  add  to  your  kindness,  sir,  by  helping  me 
to  learn  Miss  Cameron's  address,  I  shall  be  greatly 
obliged.  Her  brother  was  a  comrade  of  mine,  and  I  am 
anxious  to  see  her." 

"Certainly.  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure.  I  do  not 
know  it  myseK,  but  I  presume  1  can  easily  find  out  for 
you." 

The  sexton  did  not  know,  but  supposed  the  organist 
did.  The  organist  lived  out  of  town,  and  had  already 
hurried  off  to  his  railroad  train.  Well,  no  doubt  the 
minister  could  tell.  But  the  minister  had  gone  to  some 
public  dinner,  and  would  be  riding  in  the  procession  in 


440  THEODOEA  :    A   HOME   STORT. 

the  afternoon.  Why,  of  course,  any  one  of  the  music 
committee  of  the  society  could  tell,  if  you  only  knew  who 
they  were.  After  considerable  debate,  the  gentleman  and 
the  sexton  made  up  their  minds  just  who  the  three  mem- 
bers of  that  committee  were,  and  wrote  them  down,  with 
their  business  address,  for  the  Colonel. 

"  Are  not  places  of  business  closed  to-day  ? "  he  asked, 
as  he  looked  at  it. 

"  To  be  sure !  As  to  their  residences,  that  first  man 
lives  out  at  Roxbury — drives  in  every  Sanday ;  and  the 
next — do  you  know,  sexton  ? " 

"  No.  He  used  to  live  around  the  corner  here ;  but 
he  has  lately  built  him  a  house  over  at  the  west  end  some- 
where.    I  don't  know  where." 

*'It  wouldn't  be  in  the  directory  yet." 

"  And  yom*  third  man  ? "  asked  the  Colonel. 

"He  lives  on  Arlington  street,  somewhere.  I  can't 
tell  the  number ;  but  it  is  not  a  very  long  street  yet,  and 
he  is  a  well-known  man.     I  think  you  might  find  him." 


XXXIV. 

SOMEBODY     COME. 

CONSULTING  the  directory,  as  he  passed  through 
the  office  of  his  hotel,  Colonel  Rolfe  found  the 
imiuber  on  Arlington  street,  and,  immediately  after  din- 
ner, went  to  the  house.  The  gentleman  was  out  driving, 
with  his  children.  Would  be  sure  to  be  in  by  his  dinner- 
liour — six  o'clock.  As  soon  as  the  span  of  sleek  bays  had 
landed  then'  cargo  of  white-frocked,  blue-sashed  little 
girls,  with  their  portly  papa,  Rolfe  called  again,  and, 
with  a  word  of  apology,  asked  the  information  he  wished . 

As  the  gentleman  was  writing  the  address  for  him,  he 
glanced  up  over  his  eye-glasses  with  a  smile,  saying : 

"  If  you  had  been  in  civilian's  dress,  sir,  I  don't  know 
as  I  should  have  given  you  this.  We  are  expecting, 
every  day,  that  some  other  church  will  be  trying  to  get 
Miss  Cameron  away  from  us.  But  they  won't  do  it. 
We  are  prepared  to  bid  as  high  as  any  one.  We  know 
how  to  appreciate  talent  when  we  find  it ;  and  she  is  a 
great  favorite.  Did  you  hear  her  this  morning,  sir  ? "  he 
asked,  as  he  handed  him  the  card.  "  That  was  a  won- 
derful performance ! " 

Col.  Rolfe  did  not  give  his  opinion.  He  did  not  much 
relish  hearing  this  young  lady  talked  about,  as  if  she  were 
a  marketable  article. 

As  he  crossed  the  Common,  an  orator  was  expounding 
to  the  listening  multitude  the  exact  motives  of  Providence 
19*  (Ul) 


442  THEODORA  !    A   HOME    STOKT. 

in  removing  Abraham  Lincoln  at  that  critical  juncture. 
A  golden  sunset  beyond  the  trees  made  the  background  of 
the  scene.  He  was  amused  to  find  the  house  he  had 
been  seeking  with  so  much  difficulty,  was  just  across  the 
corner  of  a  square  from  his  hotel,  in  full  view  from  the 
window  of  his  own  room.  The  shining  African  who 
answered  the  door-bell,  said  Miss  Cameron  was  out — had 
no  idea  when  she  would  be  in.  Rolfe  stepped  into  the 
hall  to  write  a  message  on  his  card  for  her,  and  while  he 
was  doing  so,  a  strikingly  stylish  young  lady  appeared  at 
the  open  door  of  the  drawing-room,  and  said  graciously  : 

"  Excuse  me,  sir ;  but  I  am  quite  sure  Miss  Cameron 
will  be  in  soon.     Will  you  not  walk  in  and  wait  ? " 

He  thanked  her,  and  accepted  the  invitation.  He  seated 
himself  in  a  bay-window  on  the  further  side  of  the  room, 
while  Miss  Yan  Hitter  at  a  front  window,  went  on  to 
entertain,  in  her  most  brilliant  manner,  the  gentleman 
who  was  calling  on  her,  addressing  occasionally  a  polite 
word  to  the  stranger.  Presently  she  tapped  on  the  win- 
dow-pane and  beckoned  to  some  one  on  the  sidewalk. 

"  There  she  comes,  at  last,"  she  said,  glancing  at  the 
Colonel  with  a  smile. 

Theodora  came  in  with  a  pleasant  word  on  her  lips  for 
Miss  Flora,  and  the  acquaintance  who  was  talking  with 
her. 

"  You  have  a  friend  waiting  for  you,"  said  Miss  Van 
Hitter,  glancing  toward  the  bay-window. 

The  twilight  was  beginning  to  shade  the  large  room. 
The  officer,  who  rose  to  meet  her,  stood  between  her  and 
the  light,  so  that  she  did  not  see  who  it  was  till  her  hand 
was  fairly  in  his.  But  he  could  see,  in  the  faint  rosy  light 
which  streamed  over  her,  the  gentle  courtesy  due  a 
stranger  in  her  peaceful  face  and  womanly  movements 


SOMEBODY   COME.  443 

as  she  came  towards  hirn,  then  the  color  flaming  up  in  her 
cheek  and  dying  away  as  suddenly,  when,  with  her  hand 
in  his  gi'asp,  she  looked  up  in  his  face  and  recognized 
him.     She  had  no  idea  how  sweet  a  sight  that  was  to  him. 

He  seated  her  on  the  tete-a-tete  with  him,  and  sat 
resting  one  elbow  on  liis  knee,  leaning  a  little  forward  so 
as  to  look  her  full  in  the  face  as  they  talked. 

She  had  much  to  ask  about  his  adventm'es,  which  he 
told  in  a  rapid,  vivid  way,  peculiar  to  himself.  She  was 
sui*prised  to  learn,  that  for  eight  months  past  he  had  been 
in  Shennan's  aiTuy  instead  of  the  Division  which  she 
had  followed  as  closely  as  the  newspapers  would  allow. 
Suddenly  he  broke  off  a  description  of  "  The  Great 
March,"  saying; 

"  But  the  time  is  too  precious  to  talk  about  that.  Tell  me 
about  yourself.  You  don't  know  how  hungry  I  have  been 
for  a  sight  of  yom-  face,  Theodora !  "  he  added  in  a  lower 
tone. 

"  I  didn't  know  as  you  cared,"  said  she,  with  a  bitter 
recollection  of  the  long  silence. 

"  Cared  !  "  His  whole  heart  broke  loose  in  the  word. 
He  turned  his  head  quickly  to  the  window ;  the  grey 
eyes  were  almost  black,  the  lips  pressed  together,  and  the 
face  very  pale. 

Theodora  was  frightened  to  see  what  she  had  done,  and 
vexed  at  herself  for  having  said  what  seemed  like  a 
challenge. 

"What  in  this  world  do  you  think  I  care  for,  Theo- 
dora ? "  he  asked,  after  a  moment's  silence,  fastening  upon 
her,  eyes  so  full  of  tender  reproach  that  hers  fell  beneath 
them.     It  was  an  awkward  question  to  answer. 

At  this  moment,  Miss  Van  Ritter  came  rustling  across 
the  room,  saying : 


444  THEODOKA  :    A   HOME    STORY. 

"  I  beg  pardon  for  interrupting  you,  Miss  Cameron,  but 
Mr.  Folansbee  here  is  wildly  insane  over  your  singing. 
I  have  been  trying  all  my  blandishments,  but  I  cannot 
keep  him  off  the  subject  more  than  two  minutes  at  a 
time."  As  she  spoke,  she  swung  her  train  into  position, 
with  a  fm-tive  glance,  to  see  that  it  was  right,  and  stood 
leaning  on  the  back  of  an  easy-chair.  It  was  an  attitude 
she  much  affected,  it  gave  her  tall  figure  so  graceful  a 
curve. 

Mr.  Folansbee,  a  small,  sallow  gentleman,  whose  face 
consisted  mainly  of  very  black  eyes  and  beard,  had  followed 
her,  and  stood  combing  his  long  mustache  with  the  head 
of  his  cane. 

"  Now  I  throw  myself  on  your  mercy,"  Miss  Yan  Hitter 
continued,  throwing  her  head  on  one  side,  and  spreading 
out  her  jewelled  hands  imploringly.  "  If  you  would  con- 
sent to  pacify  this  disagreeable  creature  with  a  song, 
I  should  be  your  debtor  for  life.  I  am  sure  yom*  friend 
must  be  dying  to  hear  you ; "  she  smiled  so  blandly  on 
Kolfe,  that  Theodora  felt  obliged  to  introduce  him. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  such  a  charming  voice,  Col.  Eolfe? 
We  are  all  infatuated  over  it,  here." 

The  Colonel  bowed  coolly,  and  remarked  that  Boston 
was  supposed  to  appreciate  musical  genius. 

"Do  persuade  her  to  sing  us  one  song!"  said  Miss 
Yan  Eitter,  turning  upon  him  one  of  her  most  pei-suasive 
glances. 

Theodora  saved  him  any  reply,  by  saying  : 

"  I  am  sure  it  would  restore  Mr.  Folansbee's  reason  if 
he  could  hear  you  play  that  beautiful  Polacca  of  Webei-'s. 
Have  you  ever  heard  Miss  Yan  Eitter  render  that,  Mr. 
Folansbee? " 

"  Never  have  had  that  pleasure,"  answered  the  gentle- 


SOMEBODY   COMB,  445 

man,  offering  to  hand  her  to  the  piano  ;  "  do  gratify  us, 
Miss  Yan  Kitter." 

"  Oh,  you  revengeful  gii'l !  I  dare  say  Col.  EoKe  is 
familiar  with  it." 

"  I  have  heen  quite  out  of  the  way  of  music,  for  nearly 
two  years,  Miss  Yan  Eitter." 

"  If  I  must  then,  you  tyrannical  people ! "  and  with 
a  shrug  as  if  yielding  to  the  inevitable,  the  young  lady 
Bailed  away  to  the  piano  in  the  remotest  comer  of  the 
drawing-room.  In  a  moment,  her  bracelets  were  rattling 
up  and  down  the  key-board  ;  she  was  swaying  like  a  reed 
in  the  wind,  her  hands  rebounding  from  the  staccato  notes 
as  if  the  keys  were  red-hot,  while  Mr.  Folansbee  leaned 
on  the  end  of  the  piano,  admiring. 

"  That  is  fifteen  pages  long,"  said  Theodora  with  a 
demure  glance. 

"  Good  !  What  a  girl  you  are  !  "  exclaimed  her  friend, 
and  the  smile  of  quiet  amusement  she  remembered  so  well 
crept  from  his  mouth  up  to  his  eyes.  But  the  sober  look 
over-shadowed  it  quickly  as  he  said  : 

"  Do  you  know  what  a  cruel  thing  you  said,  Theo- 
dora ?     Could  you  ever  doubt  that  I  '  cared '  ?" 

The  matter-of-fact  answer,  "  If  you  did,  why  did  you 
have  it  so  ?"  could  not  be  given,  so  she  simply  grew  hot 
in  the  cheeks,  and  replied,  "  You  had  been  so  kind  a 
friend,  I  need  not  have  doubted  you  would  miss  me  a 
little." 

"  I  did  miss  you  just  a  little,  as  a  man  stiaick  bHnd 
may  miss  the  sunshine  just  a  httle." 

Theodora  felt  awed  by  the  suppressed  intensity  of  his 
manner.  She  clasped  her  hands  to  keep  them  from 
trembling,  but  the  lace  at  her  throat  shook  with  the  beat- 
ing of  her  pulses.     StiU  her  common  sense  demanded, 


446  THEODOEA  :    A   HOME   STOKT. 

"  Why  did  the  blind  man  put  out  his  eyes  ?"  She  did 
not  speak,  nor  look  up,  but  it  must  have  been  something 
proud  in  the  poise  of  her  head,  something  grieved  in  the 
line  of  her  lips  that  revealed  to  Yincent  Rolfe  what  she 
was  thinking,  and  thiilled  him  suddenly  with  the  sweet 
pain  of  knoM-ing,  "  It  has  been  hard  for  her,  too !" 

He  spoke  low  and  rapidly,  making  the  most  of  the 
time  the  piano  might  cover. 

"  You  don't  know  why  I  felt  forced  to  give  up  your 
precious  letters  when  I  did.  I  had  resolved  I  would 
never  press  my  love  upon  you  while  you  were  struggling 
through  your  great  sorrow.  I  wanted  it  should  support 
and  comfort  you,  without  your  feeling  any  responsibility 
about  it.  It  was  happiness  enough  for  me  then  to  love 
you,  and  try  to  help  you.  I  did  not  wish  to  tease  you 
with  a  question  to  decide.  In  fact,  I  did  not  want  ful- 
ness of  joy,  if  I  could  have  had  it,  while  Donald  was 
going  down  to  death.  But  I  promised  myself  that  when 
he  had  left  us,  I  would  tell  you  all,  and  win  you,  if  love 
and  will  could  do  it.  It  was  all  1  could  do  to  keep  from 
it  in  that  first  letter  I  wrote  you  after  his  death.  But  I 
thought  it  would  be  selfish  then.  Before  the  next  letter, 
news  came  that  my  Uncle  Henry,  whom,  you  remember, 
I  trusted  perfectly,  who  had  charge  of  all  my  affairs,  had 
ruined  himself,  embezzled  the  funds  of  the  El  Dorado 
Oil  Company,  and  sunk  every  dollar  I  had  in  the  world. 
Besides  the  staggering  loss,  I  felt  the  stain  like  a  wound." 

"  Why  didn't  you  let  me  help  you  bear  your  trouble  as 
you  had  helped  me  bear  mine  ? "  asked  Theodora,  lifting 
to  his  face  eyes  so  full  of  sympathy  that  for  a  moment 
he  could  not  answer. 

"  I  had  come  to  the  point  of  all  or  nothing,"  he  an- 
swered.    "  I  could  not  have  wi-itten  another  letter  with- 


SOMEBODY   COME.  44:7 

out  putting  my  fate  to  tlie  touch.  I  bad  pleased  myself, 
thinking  how  I  would  shield  you  from  care  and  labor,  if 
you  would  let  me — and  now  I  had  not  so  much  as  an 
honest  name  to  offer  you.  The  most  I  could  do  for  you 
was  to  let  you  alone." 

Miss  Van  Ritter  was  playing  jpianissimo,  and  Rolfe's 
voice  was  bushed,  but  his  colorless  face  still  spoke,  and  a 
certain  controlled  agitation,  the  more  noticeable  to  Theo- 
dora because  she  had  always  seen  him  so  easily  master  of 
hiniseK. 

Then  he  had  loved  her  all  the  while — it  was  for  her 
sake  he  had  deserted  her !  She  wished  he  could  know 
that  if  he  was  in  trouble  it  was  her  sweet  right  to  be  his 
comforter.  Her  hand  begged  leave  to  nestle  a  little 
nearer  to  his  on  the  sofa. 

A  crescendo  in  the  music  allowed  him  to  go  on :  "  Just 
then  we  were  suddenly  transferred  to  Sherman's  Coi-ps, 
and  for  two  months  it  was  impossible  to  send  letters 
North.  Meanwhile  I  had  time  to  conclude  that  a  strong 
young  man  with  some  brains  need  not  despair  of  making 
a  wife  comfortable,  if  he  cannot  give  her  all  the  luxuries 
he  could  wish.  I  knew  there  was  one  luxury  I  could 
give  you  enough  of,  if  you  liked  it ;  you  would  never 
lack  for  love." 

The  warm,  soft  hand  stole  of  its  own  accord  into  the 
soldier's  brown  palm,  and  was  instantly  folded  in  a  strong, 
though  tremulous,  clasp. 

He  went  on  hurriedly :  "  We  were  just  coming  out  to 
the  Sea,  and  I  promised  myself  I  would  write  you  by  the 
first  mail,  when,  in  a  miserable  little  skirmish,  I  got  a 
shot  which  threatened  at  least  to  disable  me  for  my  busi- 
ness for  life." 
•    Miss  Yan  Ritter  struck  a  thundering  chord,  punished 


448  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   6T0KT. 

the  bass  end  of  the  key- board,  then  the  treble.  Eolfe 
looked  up  with  a  comic  expression  of  despair,  and  Theo- 
dora drew  her  hand  softly  out  of  his. 

"  That  dies  hard,"  he  said,  '•  but  it  won't  last  much 
longer." 

Another  ran,  all  up  and  down,  a  few  tremendous 
chords,  and  the  young  lady  took  her  handkerchief  and 
heavy  rings  back  from  Mr.  Folansbee's  care,  and  whirled 
around  on  the  piano-stool. 

"  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you.  Miss  Yan  Bitter,"  said 
Col.  Eolfe,  with  an  emphatic  sincerity  which  amused 
Theodora.  "  A  fine  thing !  I  only  wish  it  had  been 
longer." 

"  Oh,  insatiable !  Are  not  fifteen  pages  enough  ? 
Come  again.  Col.  Eolfe,  and  I  will  play  to  you  all  the 
evening  if  you  Hke  music  so  very  much." 

He  bowed,  and  remarked  that  she  was  veiy  kind,  but 
at  the  same  time  the  clock  on  the  mantel  tinkled  for  half- 
past  eight,  and  he  rose. 

"  Must  you  go  so  soon  ? "  asked  Theodora,  her  heart 
beating  so  hard  she  was  afraid  it  would  shake  her  voice. 

"  I  have  an  engagement  at  the  State  House  at  a  quarter 
of  nine,  and  must  not  give  myseK  another  moment  now. 
When  can  I  see  you  in  the  morning  ? "  he  asked,  with  an 
expressive  glance  of  dread  at  the  unconscious  Miss  Yan 
Eitter. 

"  Any  time  after  nine  o'clock."  She  did  not  under- 
stand it,  but  there  was  something  in  the  way  she  spoke 
the  matter-of-fact  words  which  brought  back  the  color  to 
his  pale  face.     He  bowed  good-evening  to  the  pianist. 

She  rose,  and  gliding  forward  a  step  or  two,  stood 
playing  with  her  rings. 

"  I  hope  your  friend  makes  some  stay  in  Boston,  Miss 


SOMEBODY    COME.  449 

Cameron.  '  Now  this  cruel  war  is  over '  he  ought  to 
have  a  long  holiday.  You  soldiers  are  all  such  heroes  to 
us,  that  we  cannot  do  too  much  for  your  pleasure,"  she 
added,  suavely,  to  the  Colonel. 

He  bowed  civilly,  remarking  that  they  had  simply  tried 
to  do  their  duty,  and  gave  his  hand  in  good-bye  to  Theo- 
dora, saying: 

"  You'll  not  forget  that  poor  soldier  I  was  telling  you 
about?" 

"  No ; "  she  answered,  "  I  hope  he  may  see  happier 
days." 

"  Thank  you,"  he  rephed,  with  a  flash  in  his  eyes,  which 
might  have  betrayed  him  if  Miss  Yan  Hitter  had  not  been 
occupied  bringing  a  long  curl  in  front  of  her  shoulder. 

"  What  a  charming  officer !"  she  exclaimed,  the  moment 
he  had  closed  the  door.  ""Why  did  you  never  tell  me 
about  him,  my  dear  ?  He  was  such  a  fine  figm-e  !"  Mr. 
Folansbee  inwardly  deplored  his  insignificant  proportions. 
"  And  such  a  military  air.  I  noticed  that  the  moment  1 
saw  him  standing  in  the  hall ;  I  was  not  going  to  have 
him  sent  off,  for  it  isn't  every  day  such  a  Bayard  darkens 
one's  doors.  So  fond  of  music,  too  !  I  don't  know  how  it 
is,  but  every  one  I  have  played  that  Polacca  to  is  just  so 
crazy  over  it !" 

Theodora  went  out  smiling  at  Eolfe's  craziness  over  the 
Polacca,  and  lied  up  to  her  little  room.  She  walked  across 
the  floor,  singing  in  her  heart — "  Mine — mine — ^mine !"  As 
she  raised  her  eyes,  they  met  their  own  reflection  in  the 
mirror.  She  laughed  to  find  herself  smiling.  She  whis- 
pered to  the  girl  in  the  glass,  "  He  loves  me !"  and  the 
face  looked  back  at  her,  joyous,  tender,  triumphant.     • 

Then  she  turned  to  the  bedside  where  she  had  knelt  to 
breathe  so  many  patient,  trastful  prayers,  and  hiding  her 


450  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STOEY. 

face  on  her  amis,  poured  forth  her  soul  to  its  Father  in. 
wordless  love  and  thanksgiving. 

Nothing  gives  unity  to  life  like  the  sympathy  of  that 
one  only  Fiiend  who  can  go  with  us  through  all,  who  sees 
the  end  from  the  beginning,  and  from  beginning  to  end 
is  working  out  His  own  high  aims  within  us,  when  we 
know  it  was  not.  It  may  be  that  on  some  sunny  day  of 
the  vast  future,  He  will  review  our  lives  Avitli  us,  and 
explain  to  us  all  the  way  by  which  He  has  led  us. 

A  fore-gleam  of  such  a  day  was  shining  now  on  Theo- 
dora. With  Him  who  had  loved  her  with  an  everlasting 
love,  she  lived  over  again  the  weary  days  of  suspense  and 
pain,  and  thanked  Him  for  making  the  "  repose  of  idola- 
trous affection  "  impossible  for  her — saving  for  her  the 
untold  riches  of  this  love  till  He  had  made  her  humble 
enough  to  hold  them  subject  to  His  will. 

At  exactly  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning,  Yincent 
Kolfe's  card  was  handed  Miss  Cameron.  Her  breath 
fluttered  a  little  as  she  took  it.  She  cast  a  parting  glance 
in  the  mirror  to  see  if  she  looked  "all  right,''  and  ran 
down  with  a  faint  but  happy  heart.  He  was  standing 
near  the  door,  in  the  drawing-room,  to  wait  for  her. 

"  How  much  did  this  dear  little  hand  mean  when  it 
came  creeping  into  mine  last  night  ?''  he  asked,  still  keep- 
ing it  after  the  "  good-morning,''  and  looking  at  her  as  if 
his  eager  eyes  would  read  her  very  soul. 

"  I  suppose  it  must  have  liked  the  place,"  she  answered 
with  a  quick,  arch  glance. 

"  Can  I  have  it  to  keep,  then  ?" 

A  half-mischievous,  half-tender  look  rippled  over  her 
rosy  face,  then  she  answered :  "  If  you'll  take  the  rest 
along  with  it." 

"I  think  I  will!" 


SOMEBODY    COME.  451 

And  he  took  her ;  held  her  fast,  and  sealed  the  eon- 
tract  with  a  long,  hungry  kiss. 

Then  he  held  up  her  face,  putting  his  hand  under  her 
chin,  so  that  he  could  look  full  in  her  eyes,  and  wliis- 
pered : 

"  Do  you  love  me,  truly,  Theodora  ?" 

For  answer,  she  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and 
hid  her  face  in  the  army  blue. 

"  God  bless  you,  darling !"  and  the  cool,  practical  sol- 
dier rained  pet  names  and  kisses  upon  his  love,  till  her 
cheeks  were  aglow  and  her  eyes  were  shining  with  happy 
tears. 

Steps  were  heard  in  the  hall,  and  she  sprang  away  from 
him.  In  came  Mrs.  Bowyer  and  her  three  daughters, 
dressed  for  a  drive.  As  they  entered.  Miss  Cameron  was 
wheeling  around  a  chair,  saying  in  a  hospitable  tone : 

"  Can  you  not  stay  to  sit  down.  Col.  Rolfe  ?" 

The  Bowyers'  seated  themselves  to  wait  for  their  car- 
riage while  the  other  two  conversed  on  the  state  of  the 
country.    The  moment  they  were  gone,  Rolfe  exclaimed : 

"  I  cannot  stand  this,  Theodora !  This  drawing-room 
is  worse  than  a  house-top.  I  have  only  two  days  to  be 
with  you,  and  we  must  have  them  to  ourselves,  somehow. 
Shall  we  ride  ?  You  know  the  lay  of  the  land  better 
than  I.  Tell  me  how  I  can  manage  to  have  you  all  to 
myself  this  one  precious  day.  "WTiat  would  you  Hke  best  ?" 

She  thought  a  moment :  "  Suppose  we  go  down  to  the 
rocks  at  Nahant.  It  is  too  early  for  many  people  to  bei 
there,  and  the  friendly  old  ocean  has  made  plentj^  of 
nooks  where  we  can  be  quiet.  "We  could  take  a  lunch  and 
spend  the  day.  Perhaps  you  would  want  a  regular  din- 
ner, though  ?"  she  said  deliberating  ;  "  the  hotels  would 
not  be  open  yet." 


452  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STORY. 

He  laughed  and  said :  "  I  think  I  could  do  without  a 
regular  dinner  to-day  !     Nahant  it  shall  be." 

What  that  long,  bright  day  beside  the  sea  was  to  the 
long-parted  lovers,  they  must  imagine  who  can.  It  is  all 
that  we  do  not  see,  even  more  that  all  we  see,  that  swells 
our  hearts  in  the  presence  of  the  ocean ;  and  so  it  was 
with  their  happiness.  It  stretched  out  before  them  in 
boundless  possibilities. 

Every  young  soul  longs  for  one  who  will  understand  it 
better  than  it  understands  itself.  Theodora  had  long  felt 
this  powerful  attraction  in  RoKe.  But  now  that  his 
whole  heart  was  laid  open  before  her,  she  trembled  with 
awe  before  her  own  image  within  it.  It  showed  her  all 
the  heavenly  possibilities  of  her  own  nature.  Nothing  is 
so  humbling  as  a  great  love.  What  was  she  that  this  man's 
strong  spirit  should  melt  in  tenderness  at  her  touch? 
How  could  she  breathe  such  inspirations  into  his  life  as 
she  could  not  but  see  that  she  did  ?  As  RoKe  watched 
her,  sitting  there  with  clasped  hands,  and  solemnly  happy 
eyes,  gazing  far  out  to  sea,  he  did  not  know  how  she  was 
praying  that  she  might  become  in  truth  all  that  she  was 
in  his  loving  imagination. 

To  him,  it  was  perhaps  even  more  than  it  was  to  her, 
to  find  himself  so  loved.  Her  life  had  been  rich  in  all 
the  home  affections ;  but  he,  since  his  mother's  death,  had 
had  no  one  who  was  his  very  own.  He  was  liked,  re- 
spected, loved,  but  there  was  no  one  who  helonged  to  him. 

When  he  held  Theodora  in  his  arms,  and  looked  down 
into  those  beautiful  blue  eyes,  beaming  love  upon  him, 
and  said,  "  My  own ! "  he  felt  as  much  happiness  as  a 
man  knows  what  to  do  with.  In  her  he  found  already 
the  sweet  restfulness  of  home.  He  knew  her  nature  was 
strong  and  true,  fervent  and  tender ;  and  she  loved  him 


SOMEBODY    COME.  453 

as  he  had  hardly  dared  hope  to  be  loved.  It  came  upon 
him  like  a  holy  anointing,  to  set  him  apart  to  a  nobler 
Hfe. 

"  You  have  not  told  me  about  that  wound  yet,"  she 
said.     "  Is  it  well  now  ?     Just  as  well  as  it  can  be  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  the  muscles  haven't  their  full  strength  yet,  but 
it  is  coming  back  every  day.  It  was  here  in  my  right 
arm  ;  the  ball  lodged  so  near  the  large  arteries  that  the 
surgeon  hardly  dared  attempt  to  take  it  out.  I  was  not 
willing  to  leave  my  regiment,  at  any  rate,  for  a  difficult, 
dangerous  operation,  until  we  had  finished  our  undertak- 
ing and  come  around  to  the  rest  of  the  army.  When  we 
reached  Goldsboro,  I  went  up  to  a  hospital  in  Washington, 
and  had  it  cut  out.  It  was  a  skillful,  successful  bit  of 
surgery." 

"  But  what  had  you  done  aU  this  while  ?  Wasn't  it 
dreadfully  painful  ? " 

"  Oh,  no  ;  it  healed  over  with  the  bullet  in,  you  under- 
stand. It  made  the  arm  almost  powerless,  but  was  not 
dangerous,  so  long  as  it  staid  just  Avhere  it  was.  If  it 
had  worked  along,  so  as  to  break  through  the  wall  of  an 
artery,  it  would  have  been  the  death  of  me." 
•  "  So  they  had  to  cut  right  into  the  sound  flesh  to  take 
it  out,  at  last  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

The  arm  and  its  ovsmier  got  a  good  deal  of  petting  just 
then,  which  was  pretty  to  see  and  agreeable  to  feel ;  at 
least,  the  Colonel  acted  as  if  he  thought  so. 

"  But  what  had  that  to  do  with  writing  to  me  ? "  sud- 
denly asked  the  young  lady,  looking  up  in  his  face. 

"  You  don't  suppose  I  wanted  to  offer  you  a  wreck  of 
a  man,  who  was  liable  to  kill  himself  at  any  moment  by 
a  httle  uncommon  exertion,  and  had  lost  his  means  of 


454  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

getting  a  living  ?  As  soon  as  I  was  well,  jou  see,  I 
started  for  Eockbridge." 

"  Oh,  you  foolish  boy  !  "  she  exclaimed,  her  eyes  filling 
with  tears.  "  I  care  a  great  deal  more  about  you  than 
you  desei-ve  !  I  don't  believe  yoa  know  what  love  is,  to 
imagine  I  wouldn't  want  you,  just  because  you  had  got 
such  a  dreadful  hurt  doing  your  duty  like  a  hero." 

He  had  not  much  trouble,  however,  in  proving  to  her 
that  he  did  know  what  love  was. 

But  now  they  had  to  give  their  whole  attention  to  the 
tide,  which  was  grandly  assaulting  their  citadel  of  rock. 
It  dashed  its  lavish  jewels  about  them,  flashing  rainbow 
splendors,  as  if  it  meant  to  put  their  new  joy  into  visible 
shape. 

"  The  only  thing  to  mar  my  perfect  happiness,"  said 
Rolfe,  "  is,  that  I  should  have  lost  my  property  just  when 
I  want  it  most." 

"  Ton  ungrateful  young  man,  to  be  mourning  for  your 
property  when  you  have  just  come  into  possession  of 
ME  !  "  cried  the  girl,  drawing  away  Irom  him. 

"  That  is  the  very  reason  I  mourn.  You  like  beautiful 
things,  and  I  meant  you  should  have  them,  if  I  was  ever 
so  fortunate  as  to  have  charge  of  you." 

"  But  they  are  not  necessary  to  my  happiness,  Yineent. 
There  are  so  many  beautiful  things  to  enjoy  that  cost 
nothing,  like  all  this,  to-day !  Donald  used  to  say  I  was 
fore-ordained  to  be  a  poor  man's  wife,  because  I  had  my 
mother's  knack  of  making  the  most  of  things." 

"  Poor  child  !  I  did  not  want  you  to  have  that  to 
do—" 

He  stopped  abruptly,  and  she  felt  certain  he  had  come 
near  adding,  "  any  more."  For  a  moment  she  felt  morti- 
fied that  he  had  seen  and  pitied  their  little  economies. 


SOMEBODY    COME.  455 

She  was  glad  his  money  was  gone.  Thej  would  know 
and  love  each  other  more  perfectly  than  as  if  he  had 
never  felt  this  discipline  she  knew  so  well.  He  saw  the 
cloud  that  passed  across  her  happy  face,  but  did  not  un- 
derstand it. 

"You  are  a  dear,  brave  girl,  at  any  rate,  to  make  the 
best  of  it,"  he  said,  putting  his  arm  around  her  again, 
"  and  I  hope  the  time  will  come  when  I  can  give  you  a 
home  not  unworthy  of  you." 

"  Don't  you  believe,"  she  asked,  drawing  the  heavy 
fringe  of  his  crimson  sash  through  her  fingers  as  she 
talked,  "  that  people  enjoy  a  home  they  build  up  by  degrees 
better  than  one  tliej  have  only  to  order  ?  Kow,  Yincent, 
if  I  did  not  think  you  had  ability  enough  to  take  good 
care  of  me,  I  don't  think  I  should  love  you." 

"  So  yom*  love  is  contingent  on  my  providing  for  you  ! 
I  '11  make  a  note  o'  that,"  he  said,  laughing. 

She  laughed,  too,  but  wouldn't  take  it  back.  "  You 
know  what  I  mean.  If  a  man  was  a  great  genius,  or  had 
sacrificed  his  interest  for  some  great  good,  or  had  been 
overborne  by  misfortune,  or  anything  like  that,  it  would 
be  different,  you  know  ;  but  if  a  man  just  hadn't  '  gximp- 
tion '  enough  to  make  a  comfortable  living  for  his  family, 
in  a  country  like  this,  I  am  sure  I  couldn't  love  him. 
Perhaj)s  some  women  might." 

Col.  Rolfe  seemed  much  amused  at  this  view  of  the 
case,  and  sat  leaning  against  the  rock,  with  his  hands 
elapsed  behind  his  head,  looking  at  her  with  a  world  of 
fond  merriment  in  his  2}'^^  eyes. 

Suddenly  she  asked :  "  Have  you  had  a  letter  from 
Miss  Fletcher  lately  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  not  long  since.     Why  ? " 

"  Do  you  hear  from  her  often  ? " 


456  THEODORA  :    A    HOME    STORY. 

"  Once  in  two  or  three  months  ;  very  nice  letters  she 
writes,  too.  Wliy  f  "  he  asked,  more  emphatically,  sitting 
up  straight,  and  turning  her  face  around  so  that  he  could 
look  into  it. 

She  didn't  answer ;  but  he  must  have  discovered  some- 
thing, for  he  cried :  , 

"  Good !  My  angel  won't  spread  her  wings  just  yet. 
I  do  believe  she  has  a  little  spice  of  real  human  jeal- 
ousy ! " 

Then  she  told  him  about  it,  much  to  his  delight,  ap- 
parently. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  remarked,  when  she  was  through, 
"  I  saw  your  old  friend,  the  aide-de-camp,  do  some  bril- 
liant and  foolhardy  things  at  Lookout  Mountain." 

"  What  can  be  the  association  of  ideas,  I  wonder ! " 
said  she,  looking  up  at  him  with  roguish  innocence. 

"  Yon  are  even  with  me,  I  confess,  as  you  always  are," 
he  answered.  "  I  did  come  shockingly  near  hating  that 
young  man,  one  while,  I  am  afraid." 

"  But  you  didn't  love  me  then." 

"  Well — ^there  is  a  degree  of  uncertainty  about  that," 
said  he,  with  a  slow,  quiet  smile.  "  We  hear  about  un- 
conscious conversions.  I  rather  think  I  was  unconsciously 
converted  even  then." 

"  Do  you  object  to  my  correspondence — with  Miss 
Fletcher  ? "  he  asked  presently,  turning  over  some  pretty 
pebbles  she  held  in  her  palm. 

"  Oh,  no ;  not  if  you  are  quite  sure  you  like  me  the 
best." 

"  On  the  whole,"  he  said,  casting  up  his  eyes  as  if  he 
was  carefully  weighing  the  question,  "  if  I  know  my  own 
heart,  my  preference  is,  at  present,  decidedly  in  this 
direction  ! " 


XXXV. 

THE      SONG      SET     TO     A     NEW     TUNE. 

OF  people  ill  love,  there  is  the  absorbed  kind,  who 
are  no  good  to  anybody ;  then  the  sentimental  kind, 
who  sicken  everybody ;  and  lastly,  the  radiant  kind,  who 
gladden  everybody.  For  a  while  it  is  to  be  feared  Miss 
Cameron's  music-scholars  found  her  a  little  absent-minded. 
Instead  of  listening  to  their  humdrum  exercises,  she  was 
too  often  floating  off  on  the  Elysian  stream  of  her  own 
fancies.  In  a  short  time,  however,  her  sense  of  justice 
conquered,  and  she  succeeded  quite  well  in  compelling  her 
attention  to  the  duty  in  hand.  Meanwhile,  her  deep 
content  rippled  brightly  over  into  other  lives,  and  she  was 
more  to  everybody  for  being  most  to  her  lover. 

The  last  of  June  came  a  letter  from  Caro  Torrington, 
which  she  was  thankful  to  receive.  She  had  heard  noth- 
ing directly  from  them  since  that  painful  parting,  three 
yeai-s  before.  From  this  long  letter  she  learned  that  Mr. 
Torrington,  the  enterprise  in  which  he  had  embarked  his 
hopes  and  his  funds  being  lost,  had  gone,  with  broken 
health  and  spirits,  to  the  plantation  of  his  father-in-law 
in  South  Carolina,  and  there  died.  He  had  been  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Confederate  Senate,  and  had  risked  the  more 
for  the  cause  in  which  he  believed  the  more  desperate  it 
became.  "  Grandfather  and  all  are  ruined  in  fortune," 
wrote  Caro,  "  and  I  am  determined  to  support  myself, 
though  poor  mamma  abhors  the  idea.  It  is  the  only 
20  (457) 


4:58  THEODORA  !    A   HOME   STOET. 

honorable  thing  for  me  to  do.  You  used  to  praise  me  in 
music  ;  do  you  think  I  could  earn  my  living  with  it,  after 
some  more  study?  This  morning  mamma  went  so  far  as 
to  say  she  would  never  trust  me  away  from  her  to  take 
lessons,  unless  I  could  be  with  you.  Without  giving  her 
time  to  recant,  I  took  that  for  consent,  and  ran  off  to  write 
this  letter.  T  shall  not  tell  her  about  it,  till  I  hear  from 
you.  I  have  a  legacy  from  one  of  my  uncles,  safely  in- 
vested, which  would  be  enough  to  give  me  a  year  of  city 
instmction,  and  start  me  taking  care  of  myself,  I  think. 
My  dear,  precious  Miss  Dora,  if  I  could  only  come  and 
be  with  you  once  more,  I  should  be  perfectly  happy. 
Aleck  sends  love.  Pinky- Winky  still  talk  of  you,  and 
put  in  kisses.  It  is  our  home  now  here  at  grandpa's  ;  but, 
oh.  Miss  Dora,  it  is  such  a  desolate  place  compared  with 
what  it  used  to  be !  " 

This  letter  went  to  the  quick  of  her  heart,  Mrs,  Tor- 
rington  had  proved  that  she  trusted  ber  as  of  old ;  and  it 
was  delightful  to  be  able  to  do  something  for  Caro  again. 
It  instantly  occurred  to  her  that  if  she  fulfilled  her  early 
promise  she  would  do  to  slip  into  her  place,  whenever 
she  should  leave.  Miss  Scott,  who  did  a  good  deal  of 
good-natured  scolding  about  her  protege  tuniing  away 
from  her  brilliant  professional  prospects  for  matrimony, 
entered  into  the  project  with  sympathy ;  and  they  suc- 
ceeded, with  much  searching,  in  finding  a  cheaper  and 
tolerably  pleasant  boarding-place,  where  Theodora  could 
have  Caro  Torrington  with  her  in  the  fall. 

By  the  middle  of  August,  Colonel  Rolfe's  regiment 
was  mustered  out,  and  he  came  North  to  spend  one  de- 
licious week  with  his  betrothed  in  her  own  home, 

Mr,  Cameron  and  he  found  much  to  like  in  each  other, 
but  it  was  with  Mrs,  Cameron  that  he  formed  the  warmest 


THE   SONG   SET    TO    A   NEW   TtlNE.  459 

friendship ;  it  seemed  so  sweet  to  him  to  have  some  one 
to  mother  him  once  more,  while  to  her  it  was  the  next 
thing  to  having  Donald  back,  to  have  his  dearest  friend 
among  them  as  one  of  themselves.  He  admired  Miriam, 
spaiTed  with  Faith,  petted  Jessie,  and  altogether  enjojed 
Theodora's  simple  home-life  in  due  proportion  to  herself. 

But  he  was  sober  and  pale  the  morning  he  was  to  leave 
her.  If  his  uncle  had  treated  him  like  an  honest  man,  he 
thought,  he  might  have  taken  her  to  himself  at  once,  and 
placed  her  in  a  delightful  home.  N^ow,  with  his  commis- 
sion, he  had  given  up  his  income,  and  must  wait  until  he 
should  find  business  and  accumulate  enough  to  start  upon. 
Meanwhile  how  much  they  would  be  losing !  The  river- 
mist  which  filled  the  valley  like  a  sea,  hiding  even  the 
next  house  from  sight,  seemed  an  appropriate  atmosphere 
as  he  stood  at  his  window  before  breakfast,  lookmg  into 
the  future  with  a  great  yearning  for  what  he  could  not 
have-. 

Theodora  walked  down  to  the  .station  with  him.  He 
quarreled  with  her  a  little,  that  she  did  not  seem  to  share 
his  impatience.  She  was  too  happy  in  things  as  they  were 
to  be  over  anxious  to  change  them.  They  had  started 
early,  and  as  they  sauntered  along  a  by-path,  she  taught 
him  faith  and  patience  so  sweetly  that  he  grew  strong  to 
labor  and  to  wait.  The  sun  was  burning  off  the  fog ; 
first  it  rolled  away  from  the  emerald  meadows,  and  re- 
vealed the  glistening  blades  of  the  embattled  corn-field, 
the  silver  gleam  of  the  quivering  willow-hedges,  and 
glimpses  of  the  shining  river ;  then  it  di'ew  off  behind 
the  hills,  and  left  them  for  the  horizon,  as  if  that  were 
all ;  but  at  last,  it  broke  its  ghostly  ranks  and  fled  up  the 
mountain  sides,  bounding  the  glorious  scene  by  their 
proud  heads  alone,  reared  against  an  unclouded  s!cy. 


460  THEODORA  :    A    ROME    STOKT. 

"It  is  a  good  omen,  dearest,"  said  the  gir],  as  she  stop- 
ped to  give  the  last  kiss  under  a  chimp  of  murmuring 
pines.  "Mj  dear  old  mountains  are  smiling  upon 
yon." 

Early  in  the  Fall,  Rolf  e  had  an  opportunity  to  take  an 
important  engineering  job  among  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
He  went  out  to  look  it  over,  and  found  it  involved  some 
problems  which  he  was  deeply  interested  in  solving ;  more- 
over, it  would  be  profitable  pecuniarily.  The  only  and 
great  objection  was,  that  it  might  detain  him  in  that  wild 
region,  and  so  delay  his  marriage  for  two  or  three  years. 
Every  day,  as  he  saw  some  grand  new  landscape,  he  was 
saying  to  himself :  "  If  Theodora  could  only  see  this  I " 
Suddenly  the  query  took  possession  of  him,  "Why 
might  she  not?  "  She  was  fearless,  healthy,  and  fond  of 
adventure.  Her  love  of  Nature  would  stand  her  in  the 
stead  of  many  comforts  of  civilization.  His  comrades 
had  always  credited  him  with  a  genius  for  making  a  com- 
fortable camp  out  of  the  most  hopeless  materials.  AVhen 
his  quarters  were  too  rough  for  her,  she  could  stay  at  the 
nearest  town.  He  thought  of  one  device  after  another 
for  making  it  pleasant  to  her,  till  he  was  quite  enamored 
of  his  project.  Still  ho  hardly  dared  propose  it.  If  she 
favored  it  herself,  would  not  her  father  and  mother  think 
him  a  barbarian  for  wishing  to  take  her  away  before  he 
could  give  her  a  quiet,  comfortable  home  in  some  pleasant 
town  ?  However,  it  was  not  his  way  to  give  up  what  he 
wished  without  trying  for  it.  First  he  wrote  to  her  in 
Boston,  and  while  he  charged  her  not  to  consent  for  his 
sake  unless  she  liked  the  idea,  he  showed  so  plainly 
that  his  whole  heart  was  in  it,  and  painted  in  such  glow- 
ing colors  the  life  they  might  live  "  all  under  the  green- 
wood tree,"  that  she  was  completely  won  over.     Then 


THE    SONG    SET   TO    A    NEW    TUNE.  461 

they  laid  joint  siege  to  the  parental  wisdom,  and  finally 
gained  consent  to  their  marriage  in  the  coming  Spring. 

It  was  a  week  before  the  wedding.  Robert,  with  his 
wife  and  two  children,  were  expected  the  next  day,  and 
Yincent  the  day  after,  Caro  Torrington  and  Miss  Scott 
were  coming  up  from  Boston  in  time  for  the  occasion. 

The  sisters  had  an  old  habit  of  loitering  in  Miriam's 
room  for  a  chat,  after  going  upstairs  at  night. 

"  Only  six  more  of  these  dear  old  good-night  talks, 
ever  in  the  world!  "  said  Faith,  mournfully. 

"  You  talk.  Faith,  as  if  I  was  going  to  be  dead  and 
buried  after  next  Wednesday ! "  said  Theodora,  with  a 
frown  and  a  smile. 

''  Well,  in  one  sense  you  will  be.  You  never  will  be 
ours  any  more,  as  you  have  been.  This  strange  man  will 
always  have  to  come  between." 

The  smile  got  the  better  of  the  frown.  "  Why,  I  shall 
not  love  you  any  the  less,  child,  because  I  have  taken  up 
the  '  strange  man.' " 

"  Theoretically,"  conceded  Faith,  with  an  incredulous 
shrag  of  the  eyebrows ;  "  but  what  good  will  that  do  us, 
if  you  care  so  much  more  about  him  as  to  leave  us  all  and 
go  off  into  that  waste,  howling  wilderness,  to  live  with 
him  ?  The  letters  will  come  less  and  less  frequently — I 
know  how  it  is ! — and  you  will  never  come  home  but 
that  he  will  be  clamoring  for  you  to  come  back." 

"  Don't  you  expect  him  ever  to  come  with  me,  I  should 
like  to  know  ?  " 

"  That  will  be  worse  yet.  You  will  be  all  the  time 
with  him,  or  wanting  to  be,  which  is  just  as  bad.  Now, 
Theodora,  confess !  "  said  she,  throwing  herself  down  on 
a  footstool  at  her  sister's  feet,  resting  her  anus  on  her 


462  TnEODORA :  a  home  story. 

knees,  and  loolving  up  in  her  face.  "  Xow  that  the  time 
draws  near,  don't  you,  really  and  truly,  clear  down  in 
your  heart,  wish  you  were  out  of  it?" 

Theodora  gazed  down  into  the  piercing  black  eyes 
fixed  upon  her,  till  the  smile  on  her  lips  spread  all  over 
her  face,  "  You  ridiculous  child  !  "  she  said,  putting  her 
hand  for  a  moment  under  Faith's  pointed  chin. 

"  That  is  irrelevant,"  remarked  Faith,  without  chang- 
ing her  attitude  or  turning  her  eyes.  "  I  really  want  you 
to  tell  me." 

There  was  a  touch  of  sincere  solicitude  in  her  voice 
which  Theodora  could  not  but  answer.  Looking  into  the 
solemn  blackness  of  her  sister's  eyes  out  of  the  soft,  bright 
blue  of  hers,  she  answered,  with  due  deliberation,  ''  I  do 
profess  I  see  the  fatal  day  approaching  without  the  slight- 
est shrinking  in  any  comer  of  my  being." 

Faith  turned  her  head  with  a  sigh  of  mingled  relief 
and  amazement.  "  I  cannot  understand  it !  I  cannot 
imagine  myself  caring  enough  for  any  mortal  man,  to  be 
willing  to  bind  myself  to  him  for  life.  It  seems  to  me, 
as  the  day  approached,  I  should  feel  as  if  I  must  break 
away — run  anywhere  to  escape.  Only  think,  Theodora  : 
what  if  you  should  live  to  see  your  golden  wedding! 
Only  think  of  hving  with  Wnx  fifty  years  !'''' 

Theodora  burst  out  laughing.  "  Nothing  would  give 
me  greater  pleasure.  ^Vhy,  you  silly  child,  that  is  the 
beauty  of  it — that  it  is  going  to  last.  That  is  what  1 
marry  him  for — so  as  to  be  sure  of  him  for  a  lifetime." 

"  But  how  do  you  know  but  you  will  get  tired  of  him  ? 
How  do  you  know  but  you  may  meet  some  one  you 
would  like  better  ? " 

Theodora  did  not  seem  to  think  of  answering.  Her 
eyes,  fixed  on  the  little  flame  of  the  lamp,  were  lost  in  a 


THE   SONG   SET   TO    A   IS^EW   TUNE.  463 

dream  of  sweet  content.  Those  weary  months,  when 
she  had  been  bracing  her  heart  to  go  through  life  with- 
out Yincent  Kolfe,  brought  out  in  strong  rehef  the 
blessed  rest  she  had  now  in  the  thought  of  him.  But 
Faith  laid  hold  upon  the  hand  which  lay  in  her  lap,  list- 
lessly holding  a  hair-brush,  and  shook  it  a  little  to  bring 
her  back. 

"  I  want  you  to  answer  me.  I  feel  a  concern  about 
you  ;  and  then,  as  a  psychological  question,  it  interests 
me.  How  can  you  be  so  very  sure  you  never  will  get 
tired  of  him  ?  " 

Thus  roused  from  her  reverie,  she  made  answer : 

"In  the  first  place,  I  thoroughly  like  him,  so  that  I 
should  enjoy  having  him  always  near  me  as  a  friend,  if 
he  were  nothing  more.  In  the  next  place,  I  trust  him, 
utterly  ;  and  then,  child,  I  love  him  !  The  very  sight  of 
his  hand-writing  wai-ms  every  drop  of  blood  in  my  heart." 

"  It  is  an  inscrutable  mystery !  "  exclaimed  Faith,  as  if 
she  had  observed  a  new  and  wonderful  phenomenon. 

"  I  don't  think  so,  at  all,"  said  Jessie,  who  was  cuddled 
beside  Miriam,  on  the  lounge. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  understand  it  for  yourself,  one  of 
these  days,"  remarked  the  eldest  sister,  with  a  smile. 

"  Never ! ''  In  fact.  Faith  did  not  like  gentlemen,  nor 
they  her.  They  were  afraid .  of  each  other.  She  shook 
out  her  black  hair,  and  returned  to  the  charge :  "  Sup- 
pose, now,  you  should  find  faults  in  him,  after  you  are 
married,  that  you  don't  know  of  now,  and  suppose  you 
should  meet  some  one  else  who  might  have  matched  you 
better?" 

"  Of  course,  I  shall  find  faults  in  him  that  I  don't 
know  of ;  it  would  be  a  very  one-sided  affair,  otherwise ; 
he  will  find  enough  in  me.     We  will  cure  them,  if  we 


464  THEODORA:    A   HOME    STOEY. 

can,  and  love  over  tliem,  if  we  can't.  The  other  suppo- 
sition does  not  look  alarmingly  probable." 

"But,  if— " 

"  Well,  then,  to  satisfy  jour  psychological  curiosity,  I 
will  consider  even  that  odious  if.  If  I  were  ever  to  come 
in  contact  with  anybody  I  could  possibly  think  of  wishing 
in  Yince's  place,  I  would  shun  that  person  altogether, 
and  I  would  cherish  my  wifely  love  as  the  most  precious 
thing  I  had  on  earth." 

"  You  are  really  too  bad,  Faith,"  said  Miriam,  from  her 
corner  of  the  chintz-covered  lounge,  untying  her  cravat, 
and  drawing  it  through  her  white  fingers  as  she  spoke. 
"  It  is  much  more  to  the  point  to  consider  what  we  are 
going  to  do  with  you,  after  you  graduate,  this  Sum- 
mer." 

"  That  is  an  interesting  subject,"  said  Faith ;  "  if  I 
have  a  vocation,  I  wish  it  would  speak  a  little  louder." 

"  We  all  think  that  she  has  a  talent  for  writing,"  said 
Miriam,  "  at  Downington.  She  has  a  pungent  way  of 
going  straight  to  the  heart  of  things  wliich  is  really  rare. 
Who  knows  but  that  is  her  calling  ? " 

"I  do ! "  answered  Faith ;  " I  like  to  write,  when  I 
have  something  to  say  ;  but  my  faculty  is  only  a  Summer- 
dried  fountain — quite  full  and  gushing  after  a  great  rain 
or  a  sudden  thaw,  but  then,  again,  bare  to  the  stones.  It 
would  never  do  to  depend  on  it  as  a  well  to  fill  the  tea- 
kettle from.  It  must  be  shockingly  demoralizing  for  any 
one  to  undertake  to  live  by  writing,  unless  he  has  a  per- 
ennial flow  of  thoughts  worth  giving  to  the  world." 

"  I  have  often  thought  of  that,"  said  Theodora,  undo- 
ing her  braids.  "  What  misery  it  must  be  to  think  you 
cannot  have  a  new  gown  unless  you  can  get  some  of  your 
thoughts  into  the  market  to   pay  for  it.     An  ordinary 


THE    SONG   SET  TO    A    NEW   TUNE.  465 

gown,  duly  furbelowecl,  would  cost  several  columns  of  or- 
dinary thoughts." 

"With  a  little  extraordinary  style  to  get  them  into 
notice,"  said  Faith.  "  I  do  believe  half  the  faults  of  style  in 
magazine  articles  and  books  too  comes  of  this  very  thing; 
people  tiying  to  earn  a  livelihood  by  writing  who  are 
clever  enough  to  write  well  occasionally,  but  have  not  the 
capital  to  set  up  a  regular  business  of  it.  They  write  some- 
thing bright  in  the  first  place  ;  then  they  and  others 
argue  that  if  they'  could  do  it  once,  they  can  do  it  as 
often  as  they  please ;  and  they  venture  upon  it  as  a  de- 
pendence. Don't  you  see,  if  life  and  experience  have 
brought  the  wretched  creatiu-e  nothing  fresh  to  say,  he 
must  still  write  something  that  will  '  take ;'  and  so  he 
falls  into  a  convulsive  style.  Having  only  a  trite  thing 
to  say,  he  must  say  it  in  some  odd  sort  of  voice,  or  he 
cannot  catch  anybody's  ear.  And  then  he  is  liable  to 
prattle  out  the  very  last  thought  or  feeling  he  can  find, 
turning  his  soul  inside  out.  Ko,  Miriam  !  I  will  become 
a  tailoress  before  I  will  try  to  earn  my  bread  and  butter, 
writing." 

"  Well,  then ;  we  have  heard  what  you  are  not  going 
to  do,"  said  Theodora.  "  JSTow,  I  should  like  to  know 
what  you  are  going  to  do." 

"  Well,  girls,"  said  Faith,  drawing  up  her  slight  figure, 
"  I  will  tell  you  ;  though  I  am  afraid  you  will  not  like 
it.  I  have  thought  a  great  deal  about  it,  and  I  have 
made  up  my  mind.  I  mean  to  go  South  and  teach  the 
freedmen." 

The  three  sisters  gave  a  simultaneous  gi-oan. 

"  Not  in  earnest  ?"  cried  Jessie. 

"  In  dead  earnest,"  Faith  answered,  and  her  small,  pale 
face,  gleaming  out  from  the  cloud  of  coal-black  hair, 
20* 


466  THEODORA  :    A   HOME    8T0EY. 

vouched  for  it  tliat  she  was  serious.  "  It  is  such  a  chance 
as  does  not  come  once  in  live  hundred  years.  Robert 
and  Donald  did  all  they  could  for  the  country  ;  now  it  is 
my  chance.  Those  people  are  like  a  nation  of  babies, 
who  need  to  be  taught  everytliing  nght  away,  and  now 
they  are  eager  to  learn.  I  am  certain  that  just  now  I 
can  make  my  life  of  more  account  in  that  way  than  any 
other." 

"  But  you  are  so  outspoken  and  uncompromising, 
Faith.  You  will  be  sure  to  get  into  trouble,"  said 
Miriam. 

"  But  I  shall  get  out  again." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure.  Such  teachers  are  by  no  means 
favorites  with  the  Southern  peoole.  I  can't  bear  to 
have  you  exposed  to  any  danger." 

"  That  is  a  reason  for  my  going.  I  should  not  mind 
that  so  much  as  many  would.  I  have  prayed  over  it  a 
good  deal,  and  I  think  it  is  my  duty  to  go." 

And  go  she  did ;  to  meet  adventures  and  do  a  work 
which  made  a  whole  family  feel  that  she  was  their  hero- 
ine. 

After  the  two  younger  sisters  had  left  the  room, 
Miriam  said,  slowly  tearing  a  letter  in  two  as  she  spoke  : 

"  I  think,  Theodora,  I  shall  write  Mr.  Duncan  a  final 
1^0,  and  be  done  with  it." 

"  You  do  ?  "  asked  Theodora,  regretfully.  "  He  seems 
very  nice." 

"  I  know  it,  but  I  have  to  remind  myself  of  his  vir- 
tues, every  time,  to  keep  up  any  great  interest  in  him. 
It  must  be  beautiful  to  feel  as  you  do,  but  I  never  had 
that  feeling  for  anyljody,  and  I  don't  think  I  ever  shall ; 
the  older  I  grow  the  less  likely  it  is.  Marriage  would  be 
nothing  but  a  bondage  without  it ;  and  so  I  do  not  think 


THE    SONG    SET   TO    A   NEW   TUNE.  467 

I  shall  ever  marrj.  If  I  can't  keep  my  affections  on  one 
as  you  do,  I  must  spread  them  over  a  broader  surface  : 
so  there  will  be  nothing  wasted."  She  smiled  rather 
sadly  as  she  spoke,  for  there  was  great  power  of  devotion 
under  Miriam's  tranquil  exterior.  However,  she  went 
on  very  cheerfully,  "  I  have  a  plenty  to  fill  my  life,  head, 
heart,  and  hands  ;  motive  to  be  all  it  is  in  me  to  be,  and 
a  great  many  to  love  me  far  better  than  I  deserve." 

"  You  are  hving  a  noble  life,  dear,"  said  her  sister, 
jDutting  her  arms  around  her,  "  and  you  will  have  a  broad- 
er iniluence  than  I  shall." 

"  But  not  so  deep,"  answered  Miriam. 

"  "Wasn't  it  lovely  of  Mrs.  "Walton  to  send  me  this  ?" 
said  Theodora,  after  a  few  minutes'  silence,  taking  a  lace 
shawl  from  a  box  on  the  table,  and  shaking  out  its  gossa- 
mer folds.  "  The  sweet  woman  !  I  wish  I  could  see 
her.  Yince  shall  take  me  there  some  time,  after  Ben  is 
married.  I  know  by  this,  that  she  would  be  glad  to  see 
me." 

"  Isn't  it  strange  he  can  marry  that  Flora  Yan  Eitter  ?" 
said  Miriam. 

"  I  don't  know  as  anything  is  strange  in  that  line.  But 
I  can  see  how  it  came  about,  I  think.  Did  I  tell  you  he 
visited  her  in  Boston  while  I  was  there  ?  I  may  be  mis- 
taken, but  it  didn't  seem  to  me  they  were  really  in  love 
with  each  other." 

"I  don't  see  as  you  are  showing  how  it  came  about.'' 

"  You  must  know  they  have  been  engaged  quite  a  long 
while.  Didn't  you  ever  notice,  that  often,  when  a  man 
can't  get  the  girl  he  loves,  the  next  thing  he  thinks  of  is 
finding  one  that  will  love  him  ?" 

"  I  should  not  suppose  she  would  answer  that  pui-pose 
veiy  well." 


468  THEODORA  :    A   HOME   STOKT. 

"  Oh,  but  she  can  be  very  devoted  when  she  pleases. 
I  think  slie  was  rather  fond  of  liim ;  and  more  than  that, 
she  thought  him  a  good  catch,  so  she  laid  herself  out  to 
capture  him,  and  she  succeeded." 

"  But  how  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  ;  the  families  are  intimate.  He 
has  a  feeling  of  honor  about  it,  I  suppose.  The  best  wish 
I  can  have  for  him  is,  that  she  will  jilt  him  before  the  time 
comes.  At  any  rate,  he  is  greatly  improved  in  himself, 
and  she  can't  spoil  him  if  she  doesn't  make  him  very 
happy." 


XXXVI. 

LATEB     DATS. 

THE  wedding  was  over  and  Col.  RoKe  had  submitted 
to  be  "  led  about  like  a  tame  bear,"  as  be  put  it, 
and  exhibited  to  his  wife's  relations  before  taking  her 
awaj  with  him  into  the  far  country.  They  had  come 
home  again  for  one  day  before  starting  on  the  long  jour- 
ney, and  while  the  sisters  finished  the  packing,  Yincent 
and  Theodora  went  to  spend  a  few  last  minutes  beside 
Donald's  grave.  It  was  a  sweetly  lonely  spot ;  a  grove  of 
fragrant  pines,  close  by,  were  always  murmuring  their 
melodious  dirge,  robins  were  running  in  the  grass,  and 
white  clouds  sailed  slowly  overhead.  Robert  had  lately 
placed  a  nistic  seat  under  the  mountain  ash  at  the  foot 
of  the  grave ;  they  sat  together  thinking  of  the  dear  one, 
and  saying  little. 

"  Only  a  year  and  a  half  ago,"  said  Theodora  at  last, 
"it  seemed  impossible  for  me  to  live  without  him,  and 
yet  I  live,  and  work,  and  sing,  and  laugh,  as  I  did  before. 
Life  is  so  strange  !  I  used  to  wonder  at  people  that  they 
could  go  on  just  the  same  when  the  friends  they  loved 
best  were  taken  away.     It  seemed  heartless." 

"  Do  they  go  on  '  just  the  same  ?'  I  know  things  have 
never  looked  the  same  to  me  since  my  mother  died,  and 
yet  I  suppose  nobody  saw  any  change  in  me." 

"  That  is  it.  The  difference  is  too  far  in  for  outsiders 
to  see.     I  think  the  world  can  never  look  again  to  me 

(469) 


470  theodoka:  a  home  story. 

just  as  it  did  before  Donald  went  away.  It  does  not 
seem  so  solid  and  enduring,  and  that  other  world  seems 
so  much  more  real  since  he  is  there." 

"  It  has  not  saddened  your  life,  Theodora  ?"  asked 
Eolfe. 

"  Oh,  no  !"  resting  her  arm  on  his  knee,  and  looking 
up  into  his  eyes  with  something  deep,  sweet,  and  immor- 
tal in  the  tender  light  of  her  face.  "  I  feel  as  if  my  hap- 
piness was  on  surer  foundations  than  it  used  to  be.  I  have 
been  down  into  the  abyss,  and  found  out  for  myself  that 
though  the  heavens  and  the  earth  pass  away,  the  Word  of 
the  Lord  endure  th  for  ever. 

"  And  then,  Vincent,  I  don't  feel  as  if  Donald — bless 
him  ! — had  gone  out  of  my  life.  It  isn't  so  much  that 
I  imagine  him  with  me,  seeing  me,  and  knowing  my 
thoughts ;  I  love  better  to  think  of  him  as  close  to  the 
Saviour,  learning  glorious  new  truth  of  Him.  Don't  you 
know  how  beautifully  his  face  used  to  light  up  when  he 
was  getting  possession  of  some  great  thought  ?  I  love  to 
think  of  him  that  way,  drinking  in  the  Saviour's  words, 
better  than  as  still  mixed  up  with  this  jioor  life  of  ours. 
And  yet — do  you  know  what  I  mean  ? — the  spirit  of  his 
life  here  has  double  power  over  me,  now  he  is  away ;  I 
love  all  the  more  the  thino^  he  loved.  Evervthino'  his 
hands  used  to  handle,  or  his  eyes  liked  to  look  upon,  has 
a  sweet  influence  for  me.  I  should  feel  as  if  we  were 
separated  indeed,  if  I  could  be  so  out  of  sympathy  with 
him  as  to  be  hopeless  and  gloomy  when  he  is  full  of  joy. 
Funny  things  amuse  me,  just  as  much  as  they  ever  did, 
and  I  think  how  Donald  would  have  laughed  at  them. 
Good  and  beautiful  things  please  me  more  than  ever,  I 
think,  and  I  feel  that  they  bring  me  nearer  to  him." 

"  Indeed  I  understand  all  that,  my  darling,"  said  Yin- 


LATEK   DAYS.  471 

cent,  drawing  her  head  to  his  shoulder.  "  It  seems  to  me 
my  mother  has  had  tenfokl  power  over  me  since  she  died. 
When  she  was  with  me,  I  know  I  used  sometimes  to  try 
her  fearfully,  but  she  was  no  sooner  out  of  my  reach  than 
it  seemed  a  profane  thing  to  disregard  one  of  her  wishes. 
Why  couldn't  I  have  been  as  tender  of  her  dear  heart 
when  it  was  in  my  power  to  wound  it !" 

It  was  no  feigned  regret.  His  mother's  memory  was 
next  to  a  religion  with  Yincent  RoKe,  but  there  was  com- 
fort for  him  in  the  quick  response  of  his  wife's  dear 
hand  folded  in  his,  and  the  soft  voice  that  repeated : 

"  'How  doth  Death  speak  of  our  beloved, 
When  it  has  laid  them  low; 
When  it  has  set  its  hallowing  touch 
On  speechless  lip  and  brow. 

"  'It  takes  each  failing  on  our  part 
And  brands  it  in  upon  the  heart, 
With  caustic  power  and  cruel  art. 

"  'It  shows  our  faults  like  fires  at  night, 
It  sweeps  their  failings  out  of  sight, 
It  clothes  their  gooC.  in  heavenly  light. 

"  'O,  Christ,  our  Life!     Foredate  the  work  of  Death, 
And  do  this  now! 
Thou  who  art  love,  thus  hallow  our  beloved. 
Not  Death,  but  Thou !'  " 

"  So  he  will  for  us,  my  sweet  one,"  said  Yincent,  fervor 
thrilling  in  his  voice,  and  trembling  in  his  face  as  he  took 
her  in  his  arms  and  held  her  close  to  his  heart.  "  We 
will  love  each  other  so  well  every  day  that  there  shall  not 
be  one  bitter  recollection  when  the  end  comes.'' 

"  Don't  you  think,"  asked  Theodora,  smiling  through 
tears  as  she  held  up  her  face  to  kiss  him,  "  that  year  of 


472  THEODORA  !    A    HOifE    STORT. 

separation  answered  something  the  purpose  of  death — to 
show  us  our  beloved  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  at  any  rate,  I  feel  a  good  deal  as  though  I  had 
got  through  death  into  Heaven,"  he  answered. 

"  You  needn't  think  that,''  she  said,  with  a  low 
laugh  ;  "  you  have  a  good  deal  of  severe  probation  to  go 
through  yet,  if  you  are  going  to  live  with  me." 

She  laid  a  wreath  of  White  Everlasting  on  the  grave, 
kissed  the  dear  name  on  the  head-stone,  and  turned  away, 
saying  through  her  tears  : 

"  How  sweet  it  is  that  he  will  be  as  near  me  there  as 
here !     Just  as  the  Saviour  is." 

The  next  morning,  she  said  good-bye,  also,  to  the  dear 
father  and  mother,  Robert  with  his  little  girl  in  his  arms, 
his  wife  and  boy  beside  him,  to  Miriam,  Faith,  and  Jessie, 
Caro,  and  lliss  Scott,  to  all  the  old  friends,  and  the 
beautiful  valley,  and  turned  her  face  toward  the  new 
life. 

They  spent  a  few  days  in  ]Srew  York,  and  saw  a  good 
deal  of  the  Leightons  and  the  Waltons.  It  pleased  Theo- 
dora to  see  that  her  husband  was  at  once  on  the  footing 
of  an  old  friend,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Leighton,  and  Mr. 
"Walton.  With  Mrs.  Walton,  he  did  not  make  much 
progress.  He  lacked  the  faculty  of  being  complaisant  to 
people  who  were  uncongenial  to  him. 

Adele  was  getting  to  be  quite  a  Miss,  taking  on  young 
lady  airs,  and  using  the  genteel  slang  of  her  set  with 
great  fluency. 

And  dear  little  simple-hearted  Lily  !  Theodora  was 
grieved  to  hear,  now  for  the  first  tune,  that  she  had  died 
a  year  before.  She  and  the  mother  wept  together  as  they 
talked  of  it,  still  Theodora  could  not  help  thinking,  despite 
her  sympathy,  what  a  consistent  character  Mrs.  Walton 


LATEK  DATS.  473 

was !  One  would  have  thought  the  affliction  was  hers 
alone.  She  did  not  know  what  she  had  done  that  her 
child  should  be  taken  away,  while  other  mothers  were 
allowed  to  keep  theirs.  If  she  had  lived  to  grow  up,  she 
could  have  borne  it ;  if  she  had  been  sick  longer,  then  she 
could  have  borne  it.  No  loss  ever  came  so  suddenly  or 
so  bitterly.  In  a  world  like  ours,  it  is  something  an-ogant 
for  any  one  to  wrap  himself  in  the  pall  of  his  own  mis- 
fortune, and  cry,  "  No  sorrow  is  like  unto  my  sori'ow  ! " 
She  found  relief  in  blaming  the  physician ;  she  dwelt 
upon  the  beauty  of  the  little  one's  body  in  its  casket, 
the  taste  of  tlie  funeral  arrangements,  the  exquisite 
flowers  sent  in  by  distinguished  friends,  and  the  elegance 
of  the  child's  statue,  resting  on  a  bed  of  marble  liKes  in 
Greenwood.     These  things  were  her  consolation. 

It  was  touching  to  hear  Mr.  "Walton  speak  of  the  little 
girl  whom  God  had  taken  out  of  his  arms  into  His  own. 
It  seemed  a  comfort  for  him  to  talk  about  her  with  one 
who  had  known  and  loved  her  so  well,  as  to  recall  her 
pretty  ways,  and  her  artless  little  speeches.  It  was  easy 
to  see  that  this  deep  grief,  together  with  the  grand  passion 
of  patriotism  enkindled  by  the  country's  peril,  had  aroused 
the  whole  soul  of  the  man.  lie  had  made  a  great  advance 
in  spiritual  life.  Things  unseen  and  eternal  had  become 
real  to  him,  while  the  accidents  of  life  had  dwindled  to 
their  d:ie  proportions. 

Theodora  noticed  also  a  change  in  his  manner  towards 
his  wife.  He  was  much  more  forbearing.  He  took  the 
selfish,  petulant  remarks  which  used  to  nettle  him  with 
patience,  as  if  he  never  forgot  that  she  was  Lily's  mother. 
Yet  there  was  something  sad  about  it,  to  their  visitor. 
It  seemed  as  if  he  had  laid  in  the  grave,  with  his  little 
darling,  the  ardent  hopes  of  his  early  married  life.     He 


4:74.  THEODORA  :    A    UOME    STORY. 

no  longer  expected  from  liis  wife,  qnick  sympathj,  or 
satisfying  love,  any  more  than  be  looked  to  see  tlie  dead 
come  to  life.  She  pitied  him  for  that  sorrow,  unuttered 
perhaps  to  his  secret  heart,  more  than  for  the  bereave- 
ment he  talked  about  with  such  tender  emotion.  But 
there  was  an  air  of  gentle  fortitude  about  him  which 
made  her  sure  that,  resting  on  the  "  God  of  all  comfort," 
in  the  one  trouble  he  had  found  balm  for  the  other  also. 

The  Rolfes  left  the  city  at  evening.  As  they  crossed 
the  Jersey  Ferry,  a  few  belated  gleams  of  sunset  still 
glowed  in  the  marble  swell  of  the  water.  Still  it  was 
dark  enough  to  make  the  colored  lights  of  steamboats 
shine  out  like  a  gay  and  worldly  kind  of  stars.  A  line 
of  low  hills  rose  dark  against  the  horizon ;  all  up  and 
down  before  them  the  shore  was  spangled  with  lights.  A 
close-reefed  ship,  with  a  tug  grappled  to  her  side,  crossed 
their  path,  her  cordage  traced  against  the  sombre  embers 
in  the  western  sky,  looking,  as  Theodora  remarked,  '^like 
some  veiy  intellectual  man  who  walks  on,  his  '  looks 
commercing  with  the  skies,'  while  an  energetic  little  tug- 
boat of  a  wife  engineers  him  through  the  practical  affairs 
of  life." 

"  Like  you  and  me  ? " 

"  Amazing !  You  are  so  absent-minded  and  unprac- 
tical !     What  would  have  become  of  you  without  me  ?' ' 

"  "What,  indeed  !     I  shudder  to  reflect." 

"  Seven  years !  How  long  ago  it  is — it  seems  as  if 
there  Avere  two  of  us — the  girl  who  first  came  to  New 
York  seventeen  years  old,  and  me,  and  yet  she  was  I  and 
I  am  she." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  seen  that  girl." 

"She  had  a  good  many  foolish  notions — was  full  of 
antipathies    and    admirations,    and    vague    aspirations. 


LATER  DAYS.  475 

Sometimes  almost  too  liappy  to  live ;  sometimes  pretty 
blue.  I  don't  know  wlietlier  you  would  have  liked  her 
or  not." 

"  To  be  sure  I  should,"  answered  Holfe,  with  a  quick 
look,  as  if  hurt  for  that  seventeen  years  old  girl  he  had 
never  seen.  "  I  can  easily  see  that  girl  is  one  with  my 
wife,  but  I  believe  she  is  more  self-reliant,  more  sensible, 
more  steadily  happy  now  than  then,'' 

"  I  think  you  are  right,  Yince.  Oh,  it  is  too  soon  for 
this  to  be  over !"  she  exclaimed,  as  the  swash  of  water 
among  the  piles,  the  bang  of  the  boat  against  its  slip,  and 
the  rattling  of  chain-cable  dissolved  the  beautiful  scene. 

"  Not  if  we  are  to  take  the  evening  train." 

They  were  planning  their  journey  so  as  to  take  in  a 
visit  to  the  Bradleys,  as  the  bride  wished  to  show  her 
husband  the  friends  and  the  place  she  loved  so  much  at 
Esmadura. 

"  It  amuses  me  to  notice,"  she  said,  as  they  were  trav. 
eling  the  next  day,  "  how  I  like  j)eople  just  for  liking 
each  other.  I  have  taken  quite  a  fancy  to  that  old 
woman,  and  her  strapping  bumpldn  of  a  son,  for 
nothing  else  but  that  they  evidently  think  so  much  of 
each  other.  And  that  gentleman,  a  little  before  us,  on 
the  other  side  of  the  aisle — I  have  only  seen  his  back,  but 
I  like  him  for  the  way  he  plays  with  his  pretty  httle  girl, 
and  lets  her  pull  his  whiskers.  He  has  lost  an  arm, 
hasn't  he?  In  the  army,  no  doubt.  Then  I  hke  him 
for  that,  too." 

"  You  might  discover  other  reasons  for  liking  him  if 
you  could  see  his  face  as  well  as  I  can,"  said  Yincent, 
giving  her  his  point  of  view. 

"     "  Pelham    Bell,  to  be    sure ! "   she    exclaimed,  softly. 
"  Do  go  and  speak  to  him,  Yince." 


476  THEODORA  '.    A   HOME    STORY. 

"With  a  grimace  of  make-believe  jealousy,  lie  did  as  he 
was  bidden,  and  Lieutenant  Bell  instantly  came  back, 
quite  radiant,  with  his  baby  on  his  arm,  to  greet  his  old 
friend,  while  Colonel  Rolfe  sat  down  to  entertain  Mrs.  Bell. 

Theodora  played  with  the  charming  little  girl,  and  lis- 
tened with  keen  interest  to  the  story  of  Bell's  adventures  : 
how  he  had  lost  his  arm,  and  how  he  had  found  his  wife, 
a  captivating  Southern  lady,  and  married  her  forthwith, 
while  Gen.  Blank  held  her  father's  house  as  his  head- 
quarters. "  She  takes  good  care  of  me,"  he  added.  "  'Tis 
a  tyi-anny,  but  a  good  one,"  looking  over  at  her  with  a 
gay  smile. 

"  By  the  way,  yon  must  know  we  are  hving  in  the 
Tomngtons'  old  house." 

"  Good !     How  did  it  come  about  ? " 

"  The  house  was  restored  to  the  family  after  the  war. 
I  always  hked  it,  and  as  Mrs.  Torrington  prefers  to  live 
at  her  fathei^'s,  I  rent  it  of  her.  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
forwarding  to  her  the  furniture  of  that  room  you  saved 
for  her." 

"  Thank  you  for  that.  I  think  she  understands  me  bet- 
ter now  than  she  did  that  dreadful  day.  She  often  sends 
me  pleasant  messages  through  Caro.  Do  you  know  she 
has  been  with  me  in  Boston  ?  She  has  taken  my  place 
there,  and  is  doing  admirably.  Just  now,  she  is  spending 
her  Summer  vacation  in  my  home.  They  all  like  her, 
and  she  seems  happy  as  a  lark.  She  is  making  a  beauti- 
ful young  lady." 

"  Charming  as  her  mother  ? " 

"  Yes,  quite  ;  with  much  more  self-mastery." 

"  Sad  affair  about  her  father  !  He  really  believed  the 
country  was  ruined  when  secession  failed,  and  he  couldn't 
survive  it. 


LATER    DATS.  477 

"  But  now,  let  me  bring  my  wife  and  introduce  her  to 
you.  She  knows  all  about  you.  You  must  be  sure  and 
like  each  other,  or  I'll  go  and  hang  myself." 

They  did  like  each  other,  so  he  was  not  put  to  that 
inconvenience.  And  the  families  kept  up  a  pleasant 
acquaintance  afterward,  though  the  two  gentlemen  never 
admired  each  other  very  cordially. 

The  Rolf es'  lirst  year  of  married  life  was  a  very  strange 
but  a  very  happy  one.  When  two  positive  characters 
bend  their  necks  to  draw  under  one  yoke  for  life,  there 
cannot  but  be  a  little  friction  ;  but  that  was  made  easy 
for  them,  not  only  by  an  uncommonly  deep  and  tender 
love,  but  by  the  self-control  which  the  discipline  of  earlier 
years  had  given  them.  And  then,  there  was  so  much  to 
think  of  beside  themselves  !  Such  new  phases  of  life  and 
character — such  grand,  wild  scenery — such  comical  and 
sometimes  exciting  adventures. 

Theodora  admired  her  husband  as  she  never  had  her 
lover.  The  patient,  indomitable  energy  with  which  he 
pitted  his  science  against  the  stubbornness  of  ^Nature ; 
the  justice  and  kindness  with  which  he  treated  his  men  ; 
the  protecting  gentleness  of  his  great  love  for  her ;  his 
fearlessness  ;  his  absolute  honesty  ;  his  religious  character, 
which  showed  itself  the  more  strong  and  symmetrical  the 
more  intimately  she  knew  him — all  this  made  it  easy  for 
her  to  obey  the  injunction  of  Paul :  "  Let  the  wife  see 
that  she  reverence  her  husband^ 

Their  home  was  sometimes  a  camp,  sometimes  a  log- 
house,  sometimes  a  city  hotel.  Whatever  else  it  might 
be,  it  was  always  a  centre  of  good  sense  and  kindness  and 
Christian  ho'spitality.  Young  men  in  the  engineer  corps, 
who  had  not  been  inside  a  liome  for  months  before,  found 
in  Mrs.  Uolfe^  womanly  friend,  who  saved  them  from 
ruin.     Women,  discouraged  with  fighting  barbarism  on 


478  THEODOKA  !    A    HOME    STOET. 

the  frontiers,  took  heart  to  begin  again  as  thej  felt  the 
air  of  genial  refinement  which  she  contrived  to  give  her 
extempore  dwelKng.  Old  church-members,  who  had 
seemed  to  fall  from  grace  in  their  graceless  surroundings, 
were  quickened  by  the  touch  of  her  warm  piety.  Ilude 
young  girls  formed  a  new  ideal  of  womanhood,  while 
they  admired  this  graceful,  cultured,  yet  frank  and  cordial 
young  ^vife. 

Before  the  second  year  was  through,  however,  it  was 
time  to  be  done  roving.  Rolfe  took  a  house  in  a  certain 
thriving  young  city,  where  he  could  oftenest  be  at  home, 
and  furnished  it  with  every  comfort  which  skill  and  taste 
could  add  to  limited  means.  The  narrow  resources  of 
the  home  tried  him  far  more  than  they  did  his  wife.  To 
be  obliged  to  consider  the  cost  of  a  piece  of  furniture,  a 
journey,  or  a  set  of  books,  was  new  as  it  was  distasteful 
to  him.  She,  having  been  forced  to  practice  economy 
all  her  life,  understood  it  much  better  than  he  did.  His 
income  was  already  twice  that  of  her  father,  and  when 
she  thought  of  her  dear  mother  laboring  so  patiently  to 
make  the  two  ends  meet,  she  felt  that  her  lot  was  a  very 
easy  one.  She  read  the  newsj^aper  description  of  Mrs. 
Ben  Walton's  magnificent  wedding  and  thousand-dollar 
presents  without  the  faintest  shade  of  envy. 

A  hurried  letter  to  the  home,  written  that  Simamer, 
when  her  sisters  were  visiting  her,  will  give  some  idea  of 
it.     It  began  in  Faith's  handwriting  : 

"  My  deae  Father  axd  Mothee  : — I  seem  to  be  the 
only  one  who  can  keep  hands  off  from  that  baby  long 
enough  to  write  you.  I  had  pi-epared  myself  to  see 
Theodora  altogether  taken  up  with  it,  but  Miriam  talks 
about  as  absurd  a  lingo  to  it  as  she  does,  and  Col.  Eolfe 


LATEK   DATS.  479 

sits  and  gazes  at  it,  as  it  lies  playing  with  its  toes,  as  if  it 
was  the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world,  in  its  mother's  lap. 
'No  donbt  it  will  be  an  interesting  child  bj-and-by. 

"  I  have  promised  to  go  back  to  my  people  another  year. 
I  couldn't  help  it,  they  need  me  so  much.  I  wish  you 
could  have  heard  Uncle  Jerusalem  pray  for  me  the  night 
before  I  came  away.  The  last  petition  was,  that  I  might 
'  walk  de  golden  streets  in  silver  shppers  in  de  great  get- 
tin'  up  mornin'.' 

"  Yincent  is  going  to  take  us  to  ride,  and  the  girls  say 
I  must  change  my  dress.     So  good-bye  for  the  present." 

Miriam  took  up  the  pen. 

"  It  is  a  shame  to  put  such  a  slight  on  your  lovely 
grandchild,  and  call  him  '  it ' !  He  is  the  most  winsome 
little  creatm-e  I  ever  saw,  and  Theodora  makes  a  beautiful 
mother.  Her  home  is  delightful.  It  seems  to  me  I 
should  know  it  for  hers,  if  I  was  set  down  in  it  without 
being  told,  it  looks  so  like  her.  Vincent  is  always  doing 
little  kindnesses  few  men  would  think  of. 

"  The  letter  you  forwarded  me,  father,  was  an  appoint- 
ment as  lady  principal  at  Downington.  Do  you  think  I 
should  be  equal  to  it  ?  TeU  me  what  I  ought  to  do. 
Faith  and  I  will  write  you  all  abont  our  journey.  We 
met  according  to  programme,  and  arrived  here  day  before 
yesterday.  Next  month  we  go  to  Robert's.  Theodora 
says  I  must  leave  a  little  room  for  her.  How  is  Jessie  ? 
I  want  her  to  go  back  with  me  next  year,  if  you  can  spare 
her." 

Then  came  Theodora's  part : 

"  If  the  rest  of  you  were  only  here !  We  are  having 
such  a  happy  time.  I  am  glad  the  girls  think  my  Don- 
nie's  eyes  are  like  Donald's.  Dear  mother,  I  never  half 
knew  how  good  you  were  till  I  had  a  child  of  my  own, 
and  felt  how  unfit  I  am  to  be  to  him  what  you  were  to 


480  THEODOEA  !    A   HOME   STORY. 

US.  When  I  think  what  a  self-sacrilicing  life  Faith  is 
living,  and  see  what  responsibilities  Miriam  can  shoulder, 
and  how  much  they  are  both  accomplishing,  I  feel  as 
if  my  happy  life  amounted  to  nothing  beside  theirs." 

Here  the  penmanship  abruptly  changed  to  that  of  Colo- 
nel Rolfe. 

"  I  can't  allow  my  girl  to  talk  any  such  nonsense.  I 
hare  sent  her  to  put  on  her  things  for  a  drive,  and  in  the 
meanwhile  I  will  finish  her  letter.  No  man  thinks  more 
of  his  sisters  than  I  do  ;  thsy  are  noble  girls,  and  doing 
a  gi'and,  good  work  in  the  world ;  but  as  to  Theodora's 
being  '  nothing  beside  it,'  it  is  no  such  thing.  If  she 
thinks  it  a  little  thing  to  be  the  very  heart  of  my  life,  it 
would  not  be  modest  for  me  to  dispute  it ;  but  she  can't 
make  it  out  a  little  thing  to  raise  this  baby  to  be  such  a 
man  as  she  will.  And  then  she  is  felt  as  a  power  already 
in  our  little  city.  Society  here  is  in  that  plastic  state  that 
feels  the  touch  of  every  hand,  and  a  strong,  earnest 
Christian  woman,  with  a  magnetic  power  of  influence, 
like  her,  is  a  blessing.  'No  one  knows  as  I  do  the  beauty 
of  her  daily  life,  but  many  feel  it.  She  has  created  a 
happy  home  '  which  sheds  its  quiet  hght  afar  for  those 
who  else  were  homeless.'  " 

In  this  new  home,  Donald,  first  of  the  young  Eolfes, 
opened  his  eyes,  and  Theodora  began  a  new  chapter  of 
her  life,  to  her  more  wonderful  and  interesting  than  all 
the  rest. 

^' She  stretcheih  out  her  hand  to  the  poor ;  yea,  she 
reacheth  forth  her  hands  to  the  needy.  She  openeth  her 
mouth  with  wisdom,  and  in  her  tongue  is  the  law  of 
hindness.  She  loolceth  well  to  her  household,  and  eateth 
not  the  hread  of  idleness.  Her  children  arise  up  and 
call  her  Messed  /  h  er  h  usband  also,  and  he  praAseth  her" 


"  This  book,  if  not  founded  on  facts,  is  reflected  from  them ; 
and  so  is  true  to  tlie  life.''^ — Congregationalist. 


THORNTON    HALL; 

OB, 

oZjD  questions  in  young  lives. 

By   PHEBE   F.    McKEEN. 

"A  sprightly  attractive  representation  of  life  in  a  youn^ 
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tive, and  interesting  book  for  the  class  of  readers,  for  whose 
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amiable  and  lovable.  We  seem  to  get  thoroughly  acquaint- 
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B a 


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Miss  Roberts'   Fortune. 

A   STORY   FOR   GIRi.S. 


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good  people.  And  a  quiet  little  love  story  running  through  the  whole 
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Buch  a  book,  it  serves  to  impress  one  in  a  solemn  yet  pleasant  manner 
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cepte  which  all  would  do  well  to  imitate."— 2V-a/wcrip^ 

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OUR    TWO    LIVES; 


OR, 

rRAHAM    AND 


I. 


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UPLANDS  AND  LOWLANDS; 

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THREE  CHAPTERS  IN  A  LIFE. 

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FOUNDATIONS; 

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CASTLES  IN  THE  AIR 

By  Rose  Porter,  author  of    "  Summer  Drift- Wood 
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60ul." — K.  T.  Observer. 

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pression. The  sentiments  are  the  overllow  of  a  relined 
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Foi  >:ale  bij  the  B-M>lc"cllcrs. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
750 


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